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BUDDIES 

By GEO. V. HOBART 


SAMUEL FRENCH, 25 West 45th St., New York 


M anagraph 


PoUyanna 

The glad play, by Catherine Chisholm Cashing, after the 
novel by Eleanor H. Porter. 5 males, 6 females. 2 interiors. 
Costumes, modern. Plays 2^4 hours. An orphan girl is thrust 
into the home of a maiden aunt. In spite of the trials that 
beset her, she manages to find something to be glad about, and 
brings light into sunless lives. Finally PoUyanna straightens 
out the love affairs of her elders, and finds happiness for herself 
in Jimmy. “Pollyanna" gives a better appreciation of people 
and the world. It reflects the humor and humanity that gave 
the story such wonderful popularity among young and old. 

Produced in New York, and for two seasons on tour. Royalty, 
$25.00. Price, 75 cents. 

Martha By-the-Day 

An optimistic comedy in 3 acts, by Julie 31. Lippmann, author 
of the “Martha" stories. 5 males, 5 females. 3 interiors. Cos¬ 
tumes, modern. Plays 2^ hours. 

Full of quaint humor, old-fashioned, homely sentiment, the 
kind that people who see the play will recall and chuckle over 
tomorrow and the next day. 

Miss Eippmann has herself adapted her successful book for 
the stage and has selected from her novel the most telling 
incidents, infectious comedy and homely sentiment for the 
play, and the result is thoroughly delightful. Royalty, $25. 
Price, 60 cents. 

Seventeen 

A comedy of youth, in 4 acts, by Booth Tarktngton. 8 males, 
6 females. 1 exterior, 2 interiors. Costumes, modern. Plays 
2% hours. 

It is the tragedy of William Sylvanus Baxter that he has 
ceased to be sixteen and is not yet eighteen. Seventeen is not 
an age, it is a disease. 

In his heart William knows all the tortures and delights of 
love. But he is still sent by his mother on errands of the most 
humiliating sort and depends on his father for every nickel, 
the use of which he must justify before he gets it. 

“Silly" Bill fell in love with Lola, the “Baby-Talk Rady,’’ 
a vapid little flirt. To woo her in a manner worthy of himself 
(and of her) he steals his father’s evening clothes. When his 
wooings become a nuisance to the neighborhood, his mother 
steals them back, and has them let out to fit the middle-aged 
form of her husband, thereby keeping William at home. 

But when it comes to the “Baby-Talk Rady’s” good-bye 
dance, not to be present was unendurable. Now William again 
gets the dress suit, and how he wears it at the party, and 
Genesis discloses the fact that the proud garment is in reality 
his father’s makes up the story of the play. 

“Seventeen” is a work of exquisite human sympathy and 
delicious humor. Royalty, $25.00. Price, 75 cents. 


SAMUEL FRENCH, 25 West 45th Street, New York City 
New and Explicit Descriptive Catalogue Mailed 
Free on Request 







/ 


lift 


“BUDDIES” J*Tt 




A COMEDY 
IN THREE ACTS 





GEORGE V. HOBART 


Copyright, 1919, by George V. Hobart 
Copyright, 192U, by Samuel French 


All rights reserved 


CAUTION: Professionals and amateurs are hereby- 
warned that “BUDDIES,” being fully protected 
under the copyright laws of the United States of 
America, Great Britain, the Dominion of Canada and 
all countries subscribing to the Berne Convention, is 
subject to royalty, and anyone presenting the play 
without the consent of the owners or their author¬ 
ized agents will be liable to the penalties by law 
provided. The amateur acting rights are reserved 
for the present in all cities and towns where there 
are stock companies. Royalty will be quoted for 
those cities and towns where it may be presented by 


amateurs, on application to Samuel French, 25 West 
45th Street, New York, N. Y. 


New York 
SAMUEL FRENCH 
Publisher 

25 West 45th Street 


London 

SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd. 
26 Southampton Street 
STRAND 






4 


BUDDIES 


SYNOPSIS 
ACT I. 

The Courtyard of the Home of Madame Benoit, 
Somewhere in Brittany. 

ACT II. 

Same as Act I. The Same Afternoon. 

ACT.III. 

Interior of the barn of Madame Benoit’s Place. 
The Evening of the Same Day. 

Note: “Buddies” can be played in one set of 
scenery by slight rearrangement of lines 
at end of last act. 

“BUDDIES” 

PROPERTIES. ACT I. 

On Stage: 

2 Wood horses with barn door across them. Same 
used as an improvised table. 

1 Seven foot bench behind table. 

1 Three foot bench over left—down stage. 

1 Three foot bench over left—-under window, with; 

3 pails of water on same. Also two towels. 

4 Stools around table. 

1 Stool under up stage window of barn. 

1 Stool above door of house left. 

Well standing at left centre with circular bench 
around front of same. 

Regulation army water bag hangs above barn door. 
Hand mirror on ledge of barn window. 

Small book on window ledge of house left. 

Grass mats. 




BUDDIES 


5 


On Table: 

7 Mess kits. 

1 Sugar bowl. 

1 Bottle of catsup. 

4 Slices of bread on platte. 

1 Large bowl of beans. 

2 Large pots of hot coffee. 

Off Stage : 

2 Gun racks with 8 guns, and 8 belts and bayonet 
equipments. 

1 Large cake, wrapped in brown paper, having come 

through the mail. 

10 Letters, one in mourning envelope, having come 
through the mail. 

2 Pair of boxing gloves. 

Rag for cleaning gun, for Sonny. 

Shaving brush and mug for Biff. 

Travelling bag for Alphonse. 

Official letter for Orderly. 

2 Trays with sliced bread. 

1 Bread pan. 


ACT II. 

Off Stage: 

1 Regulation army pistol. 

2 Pots of steaming hot coffee. Letter for Sonny. 
On Stage: 

1 Wood bowl with potatoes and 2 knives on bench 
over l. 

Remove the three pails of water and towels from 
bench left before ringing up on this act. 


o 


6 


BUDDIES 


ACT III. 


Off Stage : 

1 Bunch of wild flowers for Babe. 

1 Pair crystal slippers wrapped in brown paper. 

On Stage: 

2 Stools. 

1 Three foot bench over left. 

Several mess kits on the stairs. 

Boxing gloves ^n the stairs. 

Several coats, belts and guns hanging on the up¬ 
rights in the barn. 

Writing paper and pencil for Rube on stool over 
left. • 

Straw in the loft of the barn. 

HAND PROPS. 

For Sonny: 

Red bandanna handkerchief, leather cigarette case, 
matches. 

Small photo of Louise —he carries in pocket. 

For Babe: Small sewing kit—he carries in pocket. 

“ Mme. B: Croix de guerre—she wears same. 
“ Biff : Whistle—he carries in pocket. 

“ Alph : Letter—he carries in pocket. 

“ Order : Set of dice. Coins—he carries in pocket. 
“ Pete : Coins, writing paper—he carries in pocket. 
“ Buddy: Small French dictionary—he carries in 
pocket. 


BUDDIES 


7 


“BUDDIES’* 

ELECTRICAL PLOT. ACT I. 

At Rise: 

Foots, white and amber, full up. 

Borders, 1-2-3-4, white and amber, full up. 

2 — i,ooo watt lamps, amber, R.3. 

2 — 1,000 watt lamps, amber, full up, L. 2 . 

3 — 1,000 watt lamps, amber, hanging, full up in 3 
Amber strips in house and barn doors and house 

window. 


ACT II. 

Same as Act One. 

ACT III. 

At Rise : 

Foots, white and amber, ^ up. Blue full up. 

1st border, white and amber, up. Blue full up. 
(One circuit—each color) 

2 — 1,000 watt lamps. Blue, in three right, full up. 

2 — 1,000 watt lamps. Blue, in three left, full up. 

3 — 1,000 watt lamps. Blue, in three hanging, full up. 
1 — 1,000 watt lamp. Blue, spot lamp in window l., 

blue full up. 

1 Barn lamp over door, left, to work out at cue with 
foots. 

At Cue: 

When Biff turns down lamp: 

White and amber in borders and foots out quickly 
with lamp. 


8 


BUDDIES 


NUMBERS IN “BUDDIES” 

1 Overture. 

2 Incidental — Pierre motif—strings only. 

3 “Ita'lie.” 

4 “Please Learn to Love.” 

5 “The Wail of the Tale of the Long, Long Trail.” 

6 “Darling I.” 

7 “Italie.” 

8 Entre — act — refrain of (A) “Learn to Love.” 

(B) “Darling I.” 

9 “My Indispensable Girl.” 

10 “Fairy Tales.” 

11 Incidental—refrain—“Learn to^Love.” 

12 Incidental—Pierre motif — strings only. 

13 Incidental—Pierre motif — strings only, then 

forte finale. 

14 Entre — act — (A) “Fairy Tales.” 

(B) “Indispensable Girl.” 

15 “Twilight Song.” 

16 “Hullo Home.” 

17 Incidental—refrain — “Learn to Love.” 

18 “To Be Together Is the Main Thing.” 

19 Exit March—“Hullo Home.” 

LYRIC OF “ITALIE” 

Elle est de ITtalie 
Ma mie, jolie, 

J’ai Tame toute ravie, 

En voyant ses beaux yeux; 

II dit, a la fillette, 

Fleurette, coquette, 

A Paris ma brunette, 

On s’epousera tous deux. 


BUDDIES 


9 


PATTER OF “LONG TRAIL.” 

Just now and then our fighting men 
Will fall for some new strain, 

The long, long trail has never failed, 

As a soldier’s march refrain. 

As they carry their load down the shell torn road, 
Which was never before so long, 

All the world seems brighter and their packs 
grow lighter, 

As they sing this long trail song. 

There’s a kind of charm about it when you hear 
the soldiers shout it, 

In their rough and ready rhythm—makes you want 
to sing it with them, 

For it needs a lot of matching and it’s just about 
as catching 

As a simple little song could ever be. 

There’s’ a sort of little wail to it, a tender sort of 
tale to it, 

A sentiment that’s part of you, and seems to grip 
the heart of you, 

Shortens every mile of it, and makes a fellow smile 
a bit, 

Exactly as the author must have planned, you 
understand; 

Nobody has stated where the trail is situated, 
Specified how long it is for such a splendid song it is, 
The trail could be nowhere at all and nobody would 
care at all 

So long as there’s a chorus as before, 

Let the trail remain a mystery, the song is part of 
history, 

The birds will all be singing, and the bells will all 
be ringing, 

To the wail of the tale of the long, long trail. 


10 


BUDDIES 


SECOND VERSE OF “FAIRY TALES” 

There is a world of fairy tales, 

Wherein we love to dwell, 

The people of that fairy land, 

Are such a fascinating band, 

Oh, sing of good Red Riding Hood, 

And how she was surprised, 

By Wolf so dread who lay in bed, 

Ah, Ah, as grandmama disguised. 

(Spoken) What large teeth you have, Grandmama. 

All the better to gobble you up with, 
my dear. 

Grim and gory as a story ever could be, 

On the woodman we’re depending, 

Mister Wolf assassinated as he should be, 

Gives the 'tale a happy ending. 

(Etc., etc., same as first verse.) 

EXTRA VERSES—“TO BE TOGETHER IS 
THE MAIN THING” 

Like every patriotic cutie, 

Throughout the war you did your duty, 

Rolling bandages and such, 

Knitting sox to beat the Dutch, 

Those sox I never will forget. 

While fighting in the trenches all last summer. 
While marching in the fall and in the spring, 

I must have tried at least a dozen pair of six that 
you had knit me, 

But on the level dear not a single pair would fit me, 
Some were large and some were small, 

Some weren’t even sox at all. 

You did your duty that’s the thing, 

Mymm — my mm—my mm — my mm, 

I think we’ll have an early spring. 


BUDDIES 


ii 


So many girls that are good looking, 

Neglect to take a course in cooking, 

But you, I understand, have always hoped and 
planned 

On baking bread and everything, 

Now darling, though I’m not a hero, 

My praises nobody could sing, 

If your biscuits are so solid as the library foundation, 
I’m perfectly prepared for any feat of mastication 
On the understanding you 
Do your best to eat them, too. 

To die together is the thing, 

Mymm—mymm—mymm, 

To die together is the thing. 

SECOND PART. OF SECOND VERSE OF 
“INDISPENSABLE GIRL” 

On my word, dear, it’s absurd dear, 

How I’m true dear, just to you dear, 

No one shall steal you from my arms by force dear, 
(Louise) You will be with me all the time dear? 
Of course dear, all the while dear, 

There’s your smile dear, well defined dear, 

In my mind dear, 

When you’re away you are, just what I say you are, 
My indispensable girl. 

(Louise) Please spell that. (Sonny) Spell it? 

Bus. of spelling. 

You’re my indispensable girl. 


12 


BUDDIES 




“Buddies” can be played in one set of scenery 
by slight rearrangement of lines in last act. 


BUDDIES 

















“BUDDIES” 


ACT I. 

Scene: The Courtyard of the House of Mme. 
Benoit, somewhere in Brittany. 

At the l. of the stage set obliquely is the house, 
typical of the country in which the scene is 
laid. A door leads in to the house. At the r. 
of the stage is a barn, in keeping with the ar¬ 
chitecture of the house. A door opens into the 
barn. Between the house and the barn is an 
open courtyard, containing several rustic 
benches, stools, etc., etc. Regulation army 
bag hangs from above barn door. 

Time: That morning. 

Discovered: Buddy, Abie, Johnny, Biff and 
Rube at improvised table. An old door taken 
from the barn, on two wooden horses. They are 
sitting on improvised seats eating breakfast. 
No word spoken, as all are very busy eating. 
No sounds excepting the noise caused by the 
dishes. Marie and Babette are serving the 
boys. 

After pause: 

Abie. I wish I wasn’t so hungry. 

Buddy. Why ? 





J 4 


BUDDIES 


J 

Abie. Because I want to talk. (Long pause.J 

Biff. (Standing at right end of table) Finish 
your breakfast now, you Buddies, the Captain has 
laid out some warm drill this morning. 

Buddy. Oh! What’s the sense of drilling so 
hard when there ain’t no more fighting. 

Biff. Ask General Pershing. He’s thought it 
all out. (Biff exits into barn.) 

Buddy. (Rising, xes. to c.) I claim filing 
\ is good exercise even if it is only the army] of oc¬ 
cupation. ( Goes to pail up l. and cleans kitI) 

Abie. Occupation—say, when we were fighting 
like hell for nearly two years, understand mi, it was 
a job — now when everything is quiet it’s an occupa¬ 
tion — when we get back to New York and talk 
about it, it’ll be a profession, ain’t it? 

Johnny. Oh! What’s the difference—we all 
went through it and we still got our health—we 
should worry — job or occupation or profession. 

Buddy. One thing I am telling you — this grub 
is all to the good. If we could paste up a couple 
of signs, ‘Watch out for your overcoat,” I would 
think I was home in Childs. 

Johnny. ( Coming to centre) I claim she’s some 
cook, this widow Benoit. 

Buddy. Benoit — B-e-n-o-i-t—that’s Benjou in 
French. For the love of Mike, Johnny, can’t you do 
nothing at all with the French language? 

(Biff re-enters, looking about for his mirror. His 
face is lathered preparatory to shaving. He carries 
shaving brush.) 

Johnny. All right—Benyou. I claim with her 
style of cooking if she ever shows up in New York 
she won’t be there twenty minutes before she’s Mrs. 
Delmonico. Imagine. Every once in a while she 



BUDDIES 


i5 

deals 11 s out good beans like this for breakfast. And 
no extra charge. She’s one grand woman. 

Biff. (Coming to centre) Say—which one of 
you rookies swiped my mirror? 

Aeie. Mirror. 'Say, Biff, if my face is my for¬ 
tune I’m broke, because I ain’t looking at it till I get 
back to New York. 

Johnny. Sergeant. You’re always bragging 
about what a good detective you were before you 
enlisted—you ought to be able to find a mirror. 

Biff. I ain’t bragging about how good a de¬ 
tective I am, but I do claim I have one of the best 
memories for faces in the American Army. (All 
laugh and guy Biff) I’m not much good on names 
or dates, but once I see a face I never forget it. 
Come on, now—who’s got that mirror? Come on 
now. 

Babette. (At r. end of table) M’sieur Ser¬ 
geant— (To Biff at centre) Qu’est ce que vous 
cherchez. 

Biff. Pourqoui—avec—looking glass— 

Babette. (Not understanding) Mais je ne 
•vous comprends pas, M’sieur, que dites, vous? 

Biff. No —looking glass ! Le mirror—for 
shavee—shavoir. 

Babette. (At last understanding) Oh—votre 
mirror. (Indicating where the mirror is) There 
it is—in front of your eyes. Le void devant vos 
yeux. 

(Biff gets mirror from zmndow sill, and exits 
into barn.) 

(All the boys-laugh aLBiFF.) 

Abie. I can’t remember faces, but oi, I got it 
a fine appetite. Say, where is the bread? Marie— 
get me some bread! (To Babette, who stands 
watching and smiling at Abie — not understanding 


BUDDIES 


16 

him.) Marie should you stood and smile at in 
French or maybe you should get busy and get me 
some more bread so I ain’t starving. 

(Babette standing just l. of Abie.) 

(Marie standing just r. of Abie.) 

Johnny. Abie, you poor nut—that ain’t/ Marie 
—that’s Babette. 

(Marie and Babette change places.) 

Buddy. (To Abie as Marie gets to l. of Abie) 
This is Marie. Trim your lamps, you poor simp. 

Abie. (To Babette, who is r. of Abie) So this 
is Babecky—well if a girl thinks it’s a fine idea to 
look so much alike as two beans in a grocery store, 
I don’t know which is the other. (Sweetly to Marie) 
Should you please, Marie, a little bread—I thank 
you. 

(Marie smiles at him and shrugs her shoulders.) 

Marie. J’non compron pas ! 

Johnny. Marie and Babette don’t understand a 
word of English—you’ve been told that twenty times, 
Abie. 

Abie. Well, is it a wheatless day for Abie be¬ 
cause I ain’t got my education at Mr. Yale’s Col¬ 
lege? 

Johnny. Ask her in French. 

Abie. If I wait for a hunk of bread in French 
I am dead from starvation. 

Buddy. Au, dats easy. P-a-i-n—pain. (Pro¬ 

nouncing it (( pane >} ) Dats bread in French. Pain. 

Abie. (To Marie, rising) Marie, could you give 
me a pain? (She shrugs her shoulders and smiles) 
You see it. She don’t even know French when she 
hears it. 


BUDDIES i > 

Johnny. Where’s Babe—he knows French 
enough to get you out of the bread line, Abie! 

Abie. (Rising and calling off r. ) Oh Babe! 
I’m calling for help, understand me, Babe! 

(Enter Babe from the barn — r.2. — he brings on 
mess kit.) 

(Babette goes to Babe as he sits at r. end of 
table.) 

Babe. What’s the matter? 

Abie. I’m starving for bread, understand me, 
Babe, and nobody here has education enough to save 
my life. 

Babe. (Speaks in real French to Marie: who 
is over l. of Abie) Marie, un peu de pain, pour 
M’sieu Abie s’il vous plait. 

Marie. Oui, M’sieu! 

(Marie exits into house l.) 

Babette. (Standing behind Babe) (To Babe) 
Voulez-vous du cafe ou du the, M’sieur Babe? 

Babe. Une tasse de cafe—bien chaud, Balbette! 

(Babette pours coffee for Babe.) 

Babette. Woici, M’sieur! 

(Babette exits into house with coffee pot.) 

Abie. Babe, I claim you got this here French 
language beat right down on its knees, ain’t you? 

Babe. ■ Oh, I speak French pretty well! 

Buddy. Gee! I ain’t never going to learn it. 
If I try to fish out a couple of words to say to these 
girls about the weather, I find out afterwards I was 


BUDDIES 


i S' 

telling them their shoe-laces was untied. It’s the 
riskiest language I ever struck! 

(Enter Marie. She puts plate of bread in front 
of Abie.) 

(Enter Babette — crosses to table.) 

Abie. I should get from that pain enough to 
give me the rheumatism! (Smiling at Mane) Bong 
jower, Meddemosel! 

Buddy. Bong jower! Abie, you talk like a fish. 

(Johnny quietly takes plate of bread away from 
Abie, places bread, at his end of table and returns 
empty plate.) 

Abie. Well, if a fish is got a language I bet you 
I learn it quicker than French. 

Babette. (Waiting on Babe — with sugar bowl 
in hand) Combien de morceaux? (Drops spoon¬ 
ful of sugar.) 

Babe. S’il vous plait! (Stopping her) Deux! 
C’est assez ! Merci, Babette ! 

Babette. Aimez — vouz le rix au lait? 

Babe. Merci, Babette! 

Babette. Tres bien, M’sieu! (Exits to house 
with some of breakfast things in order to have table 
cleared at correct cue.) (Sugar bowl, catsup bot¬ 
tle, bean pot.) 

Buddy. Say, Babe, are you pulling that stuff to 
get your breakfast or are you just doin’ it to make 
the rest of us feel rotten? 

Abie. (Noticing the bread is gone from his 
plate.) (Hitting the table until his knife, shouting) 
Pain ! Pain! Pain ! 

Babe. (To Marie) Marie, s’il vous plait, en¬ 
core un peu de pain — M’sieur Abie! 

Marie. Oui, M’sieu! (Goes in house.) 


BUDDIES 


19 


Buddy. Say Abie, have a heart—there won’t be 
no bread left for the rest of the army if you don’t 
let up. 

Abie. What am I, a schlamiel, or something, 
Marie brings it a plateful of pain—I am having only 
one slice and when I reach for another, chesto! 
there is no pain on the plate. I ask you, gentlemen, 
am I the only American soldier in France which has 
an appetite? 

(Enter Marie with a plate of bread which she 
places in front of Abie.) 

(Re-enter Babette: she goes and \'sits over on 
bench l.J 

Marie. Il’y assez de pain, m’sieu! 

Abie. (To Marie) Bong sour, Medemoselle. 
Buddy. (Scornfully) Bong sour. Wouldn’t 
that jar you? 

Abie. Well, if I got to learn it, I got to say it so 
I get corrected, ain’t I? 

Orderly. (Entering from barn with official 
order) A little attention, boys—something from 
Headquarters. 

Omnes. (Adlib) What is it, Orderly ? What’s 
it about? 

Orderly. (Having read the order) Drills off. 
(They All shout with joy) Inspection at 10:30. 
(They All groan.) 

Johnny. Full packs, Orderly? 

Orderly. No. Rifles, belts and bayonets. 

Biff. (Addressing All the Boys) I’m going 
after the mail now, and while I’m gone, get a line 
on your equipment and watch your step. 

(He exits up c.) 

(Marie exits into house with coffee pot.) 


20 


BUDDIES 


Johnny. Say Babe, why don’t you get sonie of 
them beans, they’s great. 

Babe. Has Sonny had his breakfast already? 

Johnny. Oh, he always has his breakfast first. 
He’s up at daybreak, out wandering over the hills— 
he says he’s exercising. 

Abie. Exercising—with the drill we have every 
day—it ain’t human. 

Johnny. I’ll bet a month’s pay he’s mooning 
over that photograph he carries in his pocket. ' 

Buddy. A skirt? 

(Marie re-enters and busies herself at table.) 

Johnny. Sure — what did you think it was, Ni¬ 
agara Falls? 

Buddy. I wasn’t wise that Sonny had fell for a 
frail over here. 

Johnny. Not over here — she’s a Brooklyn girl. 

Buddy. Hully gee! Can you make a guy that’ll 
cross the Brooklyn bridge for a Jane? 

Abie. Say! There’s a. lot of pretty girls in 
Brooklyn. My uncle has a factory in Williamsburg 
and pretty girls — plenty—eleven dollars a week they 
get and beautiful, oi gevalte — positively niftick! 

Babe. (To Marie in French) (Marie has been 
busy about the table and gets - down right behind 
Babe) Marie! Where is Miss Julie this morning? 
Ou est Julie ce matin? 

Marie. (In French) She is in the village, I 
think, M’sieur! Elle est au village, je crois, M’^ieur! 

Babe. (In French) Are you quite sure she 
didn’t go for a morning stroll with M’sieu Sonny? 
Etes-vous certaine qu’elle n’est pas sortie avec M. 
Sonny ? 

Marie. (In French Oh, no, M’sieu! She went 
out quite alone. Oh, non, M’sieu, elle est partie 
tout-a-fait seule. 


BUDDIES 


21 


Babe. Bien—merci, Marie. 

(Marie crosses over to crap game—she sits on 
stage left of well.) 

Buddy. (To Babe) What’s that barrage for— 
• you ain’t going to eat another breakfast, are you ? 

Johnny. Didn’t you get it? Didn’t you hear 
him say, “Jrdi e ” ? 

Babe. (Embarrassed) No, no—I merely asked 
Marie how her sister Julie is this morning—that’s all 
—just being polite, you know! 

(All guy Babe.) 

Johnny. If I was stuck on a little French girl 
I’d just about let her know the truth—in a holy min¬ 
ute I would. But, Babe? Tell a girl he loves her! 
He couldn’t do it—the boy is too bashful! 

• 

(Babe, with head down, is eating in grim silence.) 

Buddy. Say! That guy is so bashful he wouldn’t 
know what time it is if a Jane had her wrist watch 
in his eye. 

Babe. You fellows shut up or you’ll eat your 
breakfast in English. 

Buddy. Goodnight. (Goes up to pail with kit.) 

Johnny. Say Rube — (To Rube) What’s the 
matter with you all this morning? You haven’t 
said a word. 

Buddy. No ; you haven’t opened your trap! Ain’t 
you feeling well? 

Rube. I’m feelin’ pretty fit, thank ye! (Rises.) 

Johnny. Then what makes you so glum? 

Rube. Ain’t nothin’. Just feelin’ quiet like 




o 


22 


BUDDIES 


Babe. No letters from home, Rube? 

Rube. No, not lately; I reckon that’s what’s de- 
pressin’ me. I’m dreamin’ a lot nights about the 
home folks. Well, I reckon I’ll brouse along over 
the hills till the Sergeant gets back with the mail. 

(Exit Rube c. to l.J 

Buddy. (Up at l.) Gee! I hope that guy gets 
a letter soon—he’s been worryin’ for a couple of 
days. (Looking off r.J Pipe will yer!—Look at 
Sonny goin’ after the running record. 

(Enter Sonny c. from r. running as though ex- 
exercising—he pauses at the breakfast table (i mark¬ 
ing time” as though keeping up the exercise.) 

Johnny. What’s the idea, Sonny? 

Sonny. Been around the farm eleven times— 
one more and I make my two miles. Excuse me, 
Abie! (Grabs Abie’s mess kit , drinks, throws same 
on table) I’ll be back in a minute. (He runs off 
l.2. entrance.) 

Buddy. (Comes to c.) Gee! Would you think a 
guy ffom Brooklyn could be as full of pep as that? 
(Exits with kit and re-enters at once.) 

(All rise from table.) 

(Babette and Marie clear table taking things into 
house.) 

(Orderly moves off stage above barn.) 

(All Boys help in this movement.) 

(Abie exits with kit above barn.) 

(After removing things — Babette re-enters and 
sits on bench over R.) 

Babe. (Rising) Say, Johnny! I wonder if that’s 
a stall? 


BUDDIES 


23 


Johnny. What do you mean, Babe? 

Babe. Well, Sonny goes out early every morn¬ 
ing for a walk and- 

Johnny. Julie goes out early every morning for 
a walk? 

Babe. Yes! 

Johnny. Well, why don’t you go out early every 
morning for a walk? 

Babe. I think I will, tomorrow morning. I won¬ 
der which would be the best way to walk ? 

Johnny. I think whichever way Julie walks 
would be the best way, don’t you? 

Babe. Yes, I think I do—thank you, Johnny. 
You won’t mention our conversation to the other 
boys, will you—if I went walking early in the morn¬ 
ing it would merely be to get the fresh air. You 
understand, don’t you, Johnny? 

Johnny. Sure, Babe, I’m on! (Goes up and 

cleans kit, leaves kit in pail.) 

(Enter Madame Benoit from the house.) 

(Marie re-enters—remains up stage at water 
pails.) 

Mme. Benoit. Bon jour, mes enfants! 

(Follozmng Babe’s example All say i( Good morn¬ 
ing” in their several ways.) 

Babe. Bon jour, Madame! 

(Boys stop work and listen to Babe.) 

Mme. Benoit. (Coming to c. —in broken Eng¬ 
lish ) The breakfast is not so good today, n’cest pas ? 

Babe. Not so good! Why, Madame, your break¬ 
fasts are all wonderful. 



24 


BUDDIES 


(Buddy goes to well — Orderly up stage side-of 
barn.) 

Mme. Benoit. Oh, no, no. I am not cook so 
well today. It is what you call—anniversaire- 

Babe. (Down r.) Anniversary. 

Mme. Benoit. (Marie busies herself with • 
Johnny's kit up at water pails) Oui, oui, anni¬ 
versary. It is today three years my husband is 
dead at Verdun. And my boy, Pierre, next month is 
anniversary—he is die in Picardy. 

Babe. I speak for all of us, Madame. We sympa¬ 
thize deeply. 

Mme. Benoit. Ah, you do more! When you 
American boys come you avenge! 

Babe. Well, we tried to do our best. 

Mme. Benoit. Do your best! Ah! Ever since 
it start always the boys have do their best. You see 
this—this Croix de Guerre! (Indicates medal she 
is wearing) This is to my son, Pierre! He is do a 
wonderful thing! He crawl in the night right over 
to the enemy and carry back someway, somehow, 
two wounded poilus—he is killed just when he get 
them back safe! But because it is anniversary we 
must not be miserable! We must be happy. Not 

so—Ah oui, oui—It is much better so- (She 

crosses to l. of well) (Babe goes up l. and chats 
with Johnny) (To Abie: who enters from c.) 
(MarIe crosses and sits on bench below barn 
door) Ah, bon jour, M’sieu Abie! 

Abie. (Coming down behind well) Bon jower, 
Mrs. 

Mme. Benoit. —you are well, oui? 

Abie. (Down behind well) Listen, if I felt any 
better, I wouldn’t speak to myself, Mrs. Bennjoy! 

Mme. Benoit. (To Babe, laughing) He is so 
funny, M’sieu Abie—he talk so much with the 
hands! 




BUDDIES 


25 

Abie. That’s why I can’t learn French—it’s too 
quick for the hands. 

(Enter Sonny running from c.) 

Sonny. (Going down r.c.J There you are— 
two miles. Now I feel fine— (Seeing Mme. Ben¬ 
oit) Oh, bon jour, Madame Benoit! I’m so'full 
of exercise I didn’t see you. 

Mme. Benoit. (Crossing to r.c.) Ah, M’sieu 
Sonny—you have early breakfast—you must want 
some more for breakfast. 

Sonny. (Babe comes down to r.) No, thank 
you, Madame. I wouldn’t spoil the memory of one 
of your wonderful breakfasts by adding another to 
it on the same day. (Laughs.) 

Mme. Benoit. (Laughs) Ah, M’sieu Sonny— 
you have all the time such good joke. Tres mag- 
nifique. 

(Enter Julie in her brother Pierre's uniform — 
she comes from centre.) 

Sonny. (Saluting) Ah, Julie! 

(All Boys return Julie’s salute.) 

Julie. (Saluting) M’sieu Sonny. You are well 
this fine morning, not so? 

Sonny, (r.) I feel great. (Bus. with cigarette.) 

Julie, (c.) And you, M’sieu Bebe? 

Babe. (r. rattled) Oh yes, I think so. 

Julie. I don’t understand this. For feel well one 
must take long walk before breakfast. Oh, it is 
wonderful walking in the fields so early in the fine 
morning—alone. 

Babe. So I—so I’ve been told—alone. I don’t 
think there’s any doubt about it. 


0 


26 


BUDDIES 


Julie. You are like to see me in this uniform? 

Babe. (Very nervous) Yes, I think so — it’s— 
it’s a very pleasant uniform. I don’t think there 
is any doubt about it. 

(Bus. Sonny.J 

Julie. (Sighing) Oh, dear. 

Mme. Benoit. (Before well) You take long- 
walk this morning, Julie? 

Julie. (Music cue — see No. 2 of score) Oui, 
Maman. In the night I wake up — is terrible dream 
like some great danger —so when come the daylight 
I go for long walk alone so I can hear if my brother 
is got some message for me. (Sighs) But he is 
not answer! (Throws off the depression) Voila! 
Is all right. A dream — is nothing! The sunshine 
make it go like that. (Snaps her fingers) I am see 
you soon—not so? (Salutes the boys) (All answer 
salute) Au revoir, mes enfants! (Julie exits into 
the house.) 

(Abie sits on bench l. and reads — book he gets 
from window l.) 

Mme. Benoit. (Going to c. To Sonny at r.) 
Is strange child, Julie! Every time she has trouble 
in the heart she put on the uniform of her brother 
Pierre and go far away alone — she think his spirit 
is come back to help her. 

(Marie and Babette join Johnny and Buddy 
up l. and then exit into house after business with 
dictionary.) 

Sonny. She and Pierre were twins — I think you 
told me! 


BUDDIES 


27 


(Orderly is sitting up r.) 

Mme. Benoit. (Babe conies down l. of Mme. 
Benoit.) Oui—twins! And oh! There is such 
sympathy between them! Years ago when my boy 
get in some little trouble in New York, Julie cry and 
cry about this for a week before any letter come. 
And the night Pierre is killed on the battlefield 
Julie wake up with a scream at the very hour he' 
is dead—and no one can comfort her or stop the 
crying! 

Babe. Did you never see him after he went in 
the arfny? 

Mme. Benoit. Oh, oui. Pierre is home once— 
he is just made Captain and he gave his Lieutenant’s 
uniform as souvenir for Julie—she is so proud to 
put that on—it make me cry to see her wear this— 
She is so much like Pierre! Ah well—I go now— 
is nice day for the drill, not too hot—then you come 
home for big dinner, n’est pas ? Au revoir, M’sieur. 

(Exit Mme. Benoit in the house.) (Stops 
music.) 

Sonny. (Over r.) fTY Babe ai l.) Gee! she’s 
a wonderful woman—Babe—I’d go the limit for her. 

Babe. Any particular reason? 

Sonny. What do you mean? 

Babe. (Coming down l. of well) Funny you 
should happen to come down the alley there just 
ahead of Julie. 

Sonny. What is there funny about it? (Cross¬ 
ing to well.) 

Babe. You didn’t happen to be out walking with 
Julie, did you? 

Sonny. I didn’t happen to be out walking at all 
—I happened to be out running. 


28 


BUDDIES 


Babe. (At l. of well) I don’t think that’s very 
polite—to ask a nice quiet girl “will you run around 
the farm with me before breakfast.” I call that 
imposing on good nature, that’s what I call it. 

Sonny. Say, what are you driving at ? 

Babe. Oh, nothing—nothing! It’s the old story 
—the early bird catches the worm! 

Sonny. Are you calling Julie a worm? 

Babe. Of course not—I—I was merely being 
poetical. 

Sonny. Well, that’s rotten poetry. 

(Enter Johnny and Buddy with Babett'e and 
Marie from house.) 

Buddy. 'Say, Babe, help us out, will you? We’ve 
been trying to ask Marie and Babette to learn us 
that little French song they’re all the time singing 
and they think we want more breakfast. Put ’em 
wise, will you? 

(All laugh.) 

(Johnny, Buddy, Marie and Babette come 
down l. of well. All the other Boys group around 
the well.) (They have been lounging on stage.) 

Babe. Les hommes desirent que vous leur ap- 
preniez votre petite chanson. 

Marie. Oui, nous allons leur apprendre tout de’ 
suite. 

Babe. Montez sur le banc. Get up on the bench. 

(Sonny and Babe help the Girls on to the bench 
at well.) 

Marie. Dis doue, Babette! Qu’est ce que nous 
allons leur apprendre “Madelon” ou “L’ltalie”? 


BUDDIES 


29 


Babette. Oh, moi je prefere “L’ltalie”—c’est 
beaucoup plus gentil. 

Marie. Penses-tu. Je suis sure qu’ils preferent 
l’autre. En tout cas moi je prefere “Madelon”— 
Pas vous? Don’t you believe it. I am sure they 
prefer the other. In any case I prefer “Madelon.” 
Don’t you? 

Babette. Je vais leur demander leur avis, 
M’sieur Sonny, que voulez vous que nous vous chan- 
tions “Madelon” ou “L’ltalie”? 

Sonny. “L’ltalie.” 

(Song cue — “L’ltalie”—see No. 3 of the score.) 

(During the song Madame Benoit appears on the 
steps of the house. As the Boys exit into the barn 
Marie and Babette remain either side of the barn 
door.) 

(After the song.) 

Mme. Benoit. Les soldats chant si bien—mais 
maintenant—c’est assez—allez—preparez le dinee— 
arrangez les chambres- 

Marie & Babette. Oh, Maman- 

(Alphonse enters centre from right.) 

Alphonse. (Coming down c*) Bon jour, 
Mme. Benoit. 

Mme. Benoit. Bon jour, m’sieur. 

Alphonse. Vous m’attendiez, n’est pas? 

Mme. Benoit. Mais, M’sieur—Je ne sais pas 
votre nom- 

Alphonse. Je suis Alphonse Pettibois. 

Mme. Benoit. (Very apprehensively) Pettibois—■ 
Oh—oui—je suis tres heureuse de vous voir. As- 
seyez vous, M’sieur. (They sit on bench at well.) 

Alphonse. Merci, Madame—11 faut que je vous 
parle d’une affaire tres importante—vous avez recu 
mes lettre, n’est pas? 





30 


BUDDIES 


Mme. Benoit. (Interrupting him — nervously) 
Pardon, we speak the English, please. My daugh¬ 
ters know nothing about this. They do not under¬ 
stand English. 

Alphonse. So Your daughters know 

nothing about this. Bon — I am a gentleman. 

Mme. Benoit. (To Babette and Marie) Rent- 
rez a la maison, mes enfants. 11 n’est rien, rien du 
tout. 

Marie & Babette. Oui, Maman. (They exit into 
house l.) (During this scene They come to c. 
— listening.) 

Alphonse. • You have many letters from me in 
which I ask for my money. 

Mme. Benoit. (Very nervously) Oui, M’sieu. 

Alphonse. And I have many letters from you 
in which you say you have not this money to pay. 
Chere Madame, times are very hard—I need my 
money. • 

Mme. Benoit. Oui — times are very hard. I have 
no money. 

Alphonse. I am a gentleman—I wait — for a 
long time I wait — now I am here — and I stay here 
until I get my money. 

Mme. Benoit. (Indignantly) You stay here, 
M’sieu Pettibois*! (Rises) You cannot stay in this 
house. 

Alphonse. (Getting up — angry) Oh, so! You 
speak like the grand lady, zut alors — c’est inoui—c’est 
fantastique — maybe you are not such a grand lady if 
I tell these soldiers your son is a thief. 

Mme. Benoit. (Alarmed for fear someone has 
heard) Oh, please, please! 

Alphonse. Ah! not so ? Your son is go to New 
York six years ago—I meet myself with him there 
— where I have petite restaurant on 44 th Street. 
I give him job — he speak no English but he have 


BUDDIES 


3 i 


very nice manners and pretty soon I make him 
cashier of the Cafe Francaise! Then for this kind¬ 
ness he rob me—he steal two thousand francs! 

Mme. Benoit. (At well—in tears) Oh, M’sieu, 
have pity! My boy die a hero on the battlefield! 
He is brave! and France herself know this and send 
to his mother this Croix de Guerre! To me always 
this, (Indicates pin) This is Pierre-—my son! my 
son ! my son! (Sits on bench at l.) 

Alphonse. (Crossing to l. of well) I am wait 
like a gentleman for my money—now I must have it. 
When your boy is steal this money I am send for 
the Central Office man in New York—he tell me 
“Pierre is take the money—you want him to put in 
the jail?” I do this? No—no. I am gentleman— 
I write to the father of the boy! (Takes out letter) 
And the father he say in this letter he is pay me back 
the money his son he stole in two years. And* I am 
wait over four years, (x. to c.) 

Mme. Benoit. My husband is dead — at Verdun. 

Alphonse, (c.) Sacri^Everybody is dead! 
You think this is some reason my two thousand 
francs is also dead? But I know something. You 
don’t like people to know your son is a thief— (Goes 
to Mme. Benoit, left.) 

Mme. Benoit. (Alarmed) Oh, MonDieu! No, 
no, you are not tell anybody! Oh, M’sieu, please, 
please! In our family nobody know this but the 
mother and the—the dead. My children’s hearts 
will break if you tell them this— 

Alphonse. (Seeing he has the upper hand) Oh, 
no, no, Madame—I am gentleman—I am not tell 
anybody your son is a thief—oh, no, no,—Jamais 
la vie, no, no—unless— (Crossing to c.) 

Mme. Benoit. Unless, M’sieu? (Rises.) 

Alphonse. Unless you try to make a fool of 
me about this money—voila— 


32 


BUDDIES 


(Julie, in her usual attire, enters from the house, 
and comes down to her mother at l. * of well.) 

Alphonse. —then I tell everybody. (He crosses 
over to R.) 

Julie. (Coming down l. of well) Maman! 
What is the matter — you are cry? 

Mme. Benoit. (Getting up quickly) Oh, no, no, 
Julie! It is — it is nothing — I — oh, M’sieu Petti¬ 
bois! This is my daughter, Julie. (She xes to, c.) 

(Marie appears in door of house and goes to 
water pail.) 

Alphonse. Ah ! So! Is great surprise to see 
you have such a beautiful daughter. (x..l. to Julie) 
(Attempts to pat her shoulder — Julie resents it) 
Very handsome—very handsome. Chere Madame— 
(To Madame Beloit) Will you be so kind and 
ask me for breakfast? I think now, some way we 
can arrange all this — oui, she is a fine girl! 

Mme. Benoit. ( To Marie — In French) Marie, 
get some breakfast for M’sieu Pettibois! Marie, 
appretez la dejeuner pour M'sieu Pettibois. 

Marie. Oui, Maman! ( Exits into house.) 

Alphonse. (Approaching Julie) Beautiful 
face! Handsome figure — We shall be very good 
friends! N’est pas ? We shall be very good friends ? 
I get my breakfast and then we talk together! (To 
Mme. Benoit) Ah! chere Madame, it is easy now 
to settle about the 2,000 francs. — (Looking amor¬ 
ously at Julie) Elle este charmante — ravisante— 
en petite bijou — mon dieu — mon dieu — quel amour 
de femme — quel amour de femjme. (He goes in the 
hoUse.) 

(Julie xes to Mme. Benoit.) 


BUDDIES 


33 

Julie. ("To.Mme. Benoit) This man is make 
yon 1 cry—what for? 

Mme. Benoit. (She and Julie sit on the well) 
II n’est rien. 

Julie. For make my mother cry is nothing! 
What is this man do here? 

Mme. Benoit. II est ici pour l’argent. 

Julie. (In English) Please, maman, speak the 
English. While these boys are here, I speak all the 
time English because I wish to learn it quick. You 
say this man is here for money? 

Mme. Benoit. Your — your father is owe this 
man two thousand francs. 

Julie. You are sure about this, Maman? 

Mme. Benoit. Oh, oui, oui — there is no doubt 
about it. 

Julie. Is this the man you are write the letters 
to and cry over them? 

Mme. Benoit. Oui. 

Julie. Pettibois! Is Alsatian — not so? 

Mme. Benoit. Yes; I think. 

Julie. Certainly — you hear the accent! Is bad 
man — the eye is all the time going around. Is there 
much disgrace for my father to owe this man two 
thousand francs? 

Mme. Benoit. Is much disgrace if this man talk 
about it because your father is dead. 

Julie. (Sighs deeply) Oh, if my brother, 
Pierre, were alive we have protector! 

(Mme. Benoit cries.) 

Julie. (Kneeling before Mme. Benoit) Oh, 
Maman, you are cry. And Julie is cry, too, be¬ 
cause my father is good father and my brother is 
the best brother any sister ever have. Don’t cry, 
Maman, is all right. There will be some way— 


34 


BUDDIES 


(Consoling—with inspiration) Maman! I think 
I am get engage. 

Mme. Benoit. Julie! 

Julie. Everybody in the whole American Army 
is know that M’sieu Babe is crazy for the love of 
Julie and everybody in the world is know that Julie 
is crazy for the love of M’sieu Babe, not so? You 
know why we are not engage, Maman? Because 
every time Julie is look at M’sieu Babe he is go all 
to the smash. Julie is look at him with the eyes 
put down, like this—is no good. Julie is look at 
him with the eyes put up—like this, is no good. His 
heart is full of love, but his throat is got a police¬ 
man in there and when the love words try to get 
out they get arrest. Is too bad—such a nice boy. 
Mama'm, you think it is any harm if I get Babe en¬ 
gage to Julie? 

Mme. Benoit. (Smiling a little) Julie! It is 
not lady-like. 

Julie. Oh, I am like the lady! I have got the 
pride, too, Maman! If I am not sure Bebe is love 
me, poof! I never look at him again even if I 
break the heart—but if I am help him to get en¬ 
gaged to me because he wants to—then we have 
protector and this Pettibois is go away, not so? 

Mme. Benoit. Julie, no matter how much you 
wish to help your mother—it is better if M’sieu 
Bebe speak for himself. (Kisses her — rises) You 
are brave good daughter, and if ever in our lives 
we need protector it is now—but you are not to do 
something foolish to make you unhappy all the rest 
of your life. (Goes to the door of the house — tak¬ 
ing Julie with her) Love comes to the heart but 
a foolish word drive it away. (Exits into the house.) 

(Enter Babe from barn at r. whistling—he sees 
her—stops whistling suddenly—is nervous—starts 
up stage.) 


BUDDIES 


35 


Julie. Oh, hon jour, again, M’sieu Bebe! 

Babe. Bon jour, again bon jour! 

Julie. It is fine morning. 

Babe. Oh, yes—it’s—it’s very fine! 

Julie. You are well, this morning? 

Babe. Oh—yes—I’m very well—is your health 
excellent ? 

Julie. Oh, is very excellent. You wish to sit 
down a little. (She sits on bench l. and indicates 
place beside her.) 

Babe. (Coming down) Yes —er—I think so. 
(He is about to sit on the bench beside her and 
then is overcome by his embarrassment and instead 
sits on bench at well. She then goes and sits beside 
him.) 

(This scene is played zvith great nervousness and 
shyness by Babe.) 

Julie. You hear the little birds sing in the tree- 
tops ? 

Babe. Yes—I think I do. 

Julie. Such a fine morning— I suppose they sing 
little love songs. (Sits beside Babe.) 

Babe. (He moves over) I suppose so. Birds 
haven’t much else to do. (He laughs nervously.) 

Julie. You are not like love songs? (Moves to 
him.) 

Babe. Oh yes, I like them— on the phonograph. 

Julie. (After a pause) You have a sister? 

Babe. Oh—yes—I have a sister. 

Julie. She is married? 

Babe. Yes — she’s married. (Moves over again.) 

Julie. Happy marriage? (Moves to him.) 

Babe. I hope so. 

Julie. You are at wedding? 

Babe. Yes— I was a bridesmaid—er —usher. 


36 


BUDDIES 


Julie. You like to see people get married? 

Babe. I guess so—if people get married, it’s none 
of my business — much — (In his embarrassment he 
nearly falls off the bench. He jumps up suddenly 
and starts off r.J Eve got to go now—Eve got to 
sew a button on my blouse. 

Julie. (Going to him) I would like to sew it 
for you. 

Babe. Thanks — sorry — army — army regulations 
•— must learn to sew it on myself — 

Julie. Please let me sew it on for you—-please \ 

Babe. Em glad to see — No — er — er — It’s a beau¬ 
tiful day, isn’t it? (He turns abruptly and dashes 
off into barn.) 

(Song Cue,: “Please Learn to Love”—Julie. See 
No. 4 of Score.) 

(After song Julie goes to left of well.) 

(Sonny enters from barn carrying rifle which he 
is cleaning. Seeing her he places the gun on the 
well and comes c.) 

Sonny. Hello, Julie. 

Julie. Hello, M’sieu Sonny! 

Sonny. What’s the matter, Julie? I seldom see 
you without a happy smile on your face. 

Julie, (l. of well — Trying to pretend a gayety 
that isn’t in her heart) Oh, is alright. I am happy 
just like always. 

Sonny. No, you’re not, Julie! Now what is it 
—can I help you? 

Julie. (Suddenly) Sonny, you are always ready 
for help everybody—seems as in your heart is big 
idea to be good friends with somebody is iln trouble. 

Sonny. What trouble has come to you’, Julie? 

Julie. Is to Maman ! 


BUDDIES 37 

Sonny. Your mother! What’s happened? 
(Both sit at well.) 

Julie. Is come here this morning Alphonse Pet¬ 
tibois—is Alsatian!. For long time he is worry my 
mother because is some money we are owe this man 
and money is too big to pay at this time and—we— 
—we are all alone—we have no protector—and 
when I see my mother cry over this—I-—I— (Sud¬ 
denly) Oh, Sonny, I am wicked, I try for get en¬ 
gage to M’sieu Bebe so we have protector—I am 
miserable girl. 

Sonny. (Laughing — comforting her) No, you’re 
not, Julie! You love Babe, don’t you? , 

Julie. Oh, oui, oui! Vairy much! 

Sonny. And Babe: loves you ! Everybody knows 
that. 

Julie. Everybody in the armies of the Allies 
know this but he won’t tell Julie. 

Sonny. Well, that’s alright, Julie — I’ll fix it. 
I’ll get him to come and 1 talk turkey to you. 

Julie. No, Sonnay! When Bebe comes to me 
with this what you call turkey talk it must be from 
himself. Julie has take her pride like this (Illus¬ 
trates by rolling her handkerchief up in a ball) 
and have roll it all up—so! but Julie is not let an¬ 
other man tell Julie’s husband how to get Engage 
to her and throw her pride away like that, (Throws 
handkerchief aside) No! No! 

Sonny. (Laughing and picking up handker¬ 
chief) I guess you’re right, Julie! But how about 
this Alphonse Pettibois who is worrying your 
mother? Can’t I go to him and give him a talking 
to? 

Julie. No, no, is no good to do that. Pettibois 
is not care, because you are just a friend—you' are 
inot a member of the family. 

Sonny. Oh, I see. 


38 


BUDDIES 


Julie. Pettibois is not good man in the heart—- 
and he is look at Julie with the eyes that make me 
frighten. He thinks, we have no father, no brother 
and nobody is engage to marry Julie, and because 
we owe this money he thinks he do as he pleases—- 
and that is why my mother cry—and that is why I 
am so much afraid. 

Sonny. Well, listen, Julie! Let’s fool this fel¬ 
low Pettibois! If Babe is too much of a chump to 
tell you the real state of his heart, I’ll help you out 
in the meantime. You can be engaged to me until 
we get rid of Pettibois. 

Julie. Engage with you, Sonny? 

Sonny. Sure! Your folks have been mighty 
kind to me and if I could do anything to help you 
and your mother. I’d do it in a minute. 

Julie. Oh, Sonny—you say this and you are 
engage to marry some other girl ? 

Sonny. Sure I am—she lives in Brooklyn. Did 
you ever hear of Brooklyn, Julie? , 

Julie. Is iln America ? 

Sonny. Brooklyn people think it is. 

Julie. Maybe she hear about this and not un¬ 
derstand. 

Sonny. Oh, she’ll understand all right. 

Julie. You know when American soldier is en¬ 
gage to girl at home and he is in France and she 
is suddenly learn that he is engage to little French 
girl it is take oh! such a awful lot of explain to 
make understand. 

Sonny. (Laughing) Oh, that’s alright, my girl 
isn’t that kind. 

Julie. No ; *hey never are until the time comes. 

Sonny. Why, she’d be strong for it if she were 
here this minute—you don’t know her. 

Julie. (Thinking it over) If I could tell this 
Pettibois I am engage, it make such a difference. 


BUDDIES 


39 


Sonny. That’s all right, Julie—go right ahead! 
We understand each other—Babe will go up in the 
air whdn he hears of it, but he’ll kick himself all 
over the place when I make it plain to him later on. 
(Rises) Now you go in and explain to your mother 
an ( d leave this Pettibois to me—I’ll send him about 
his business. 

Julie. You are sweet boy, Sonny! And you do 
this because you are real friend and Julie is never 
forget. I go and explain to Maman— 

Sonny. Good. That’s the idea! 

Julie. And—oh! if Bebe see this maybe he is 
jealous! (Goes up to door and then turns and 
speaks — Laughs) Oh, this is nice! # I like this! 
(Soberly) But we are explain to n'obody till this 
Pettibois is go away, not so ? 

Sonny. No —We’ll stand by our engagement till 
we get rid of him. 

Julie. If Pettibois see we fool him he make 
more trouble for Maman—he is bad man. 

Sonny. Now don’t you worry—you leave him 
to me. (Following Julie up stage) I’ll make him 
think we’re engaged alright. 

Julie. (At house door l.J Oh, Sonny — is hard 
to do—I like you and you like me—but like is not 
so wonderful as love! Maybe you forget. 

Sonny. Oh, no, Julie— (Taking her hand) I 
give you my word of honor that I’ll stand by you, 
just as though we were engaged—till we get rid of 
Pettibois. 

Julie. Oh, Sonnay, you are fine boy and you 
make Julie’s heart for be much lighter. I go tell 
this to Maman—I am almost nearly happy again. 

Sonny. Good— that’s fine. 

(Exit Julie into the house L.2) 

(The other boys , except Rube, straggle on from 


40 


BUDDIES 


the barn and various entrances. Babe and Johnny 
from the barn. .Buddy and Abie c. from r.) 

Buddy. What’s keeping the Sergeant with the 
mail? (Coming down l.c.) 

Sonny. For Heaveffs sake — have patience, 
Buddy — we’ve nothing but time on our hands—no 
more air bombers — no more whiz bangs—no more 
big Berthas, all we got to worry about now is when 
the time comes to hit the long, lon'g trail back home. 

(Song Cue: “The Long Trail.” See No. 5 of 
score. — Sonny, , Babe and others except Rube.) 

(After song: Biff enters up c. with the mail.) 

Sonny. Say—fellers — here comes Biff with the 
mail. (All croud around Biff shouting loudly for 
their mail.) 

Biff. (Coming down c.) Wait a minute—wait 
a minute — 

Sonny. I’ve been waiting three weeks, 

Biff. As you were — 

Sonny, —three weeks. 

Biff. As you were! 

Sonny. Right. (Crosses to left.) 

(Biff starts to give out letters.) 

Biff. Corporal John W. Bralnder. 

Johnny. That’s me. (Gets his letter and goes 
and sits by barn to read it.) 

Biff. Private Reginald De Courcey Pettingill. 

Babe. That’s me. 

(Sonny lights cigarette.) 

(Babe takes his letter — and xes over from R. 
and sits on zvell.) 


BUDDIES 


4i 


Buddy, (r.c.) Gee. That monaker of yours 
is sure some earful. No wonder you cut it down to 
Babe. 

Biff. Private Abraham Mincenstein! 

Abie. I am him ! (Gets his letter — weighs it) 
It’s too light for a love letter and it’s too heavy for 
a bill! It must be from the sister. (Sits down to 
read r. of c. on stage.) 

Biff. Private Reginald De Gourcey Pettingill. 
(Babe takes his letter.) 

Buddy. Gee — I’m crazy about that 'name! 

Biff. Private Reginald De Gourcey Pettingill. 

Buddy, (r.c.) Sounds like they’re paging some¬ 
body in the Ritz-Carlton! 

Sonny. Come on, Biff — for Heaven’s sake, 
haven’t you got something there for me? 

Biff. Private Andrew Prendergast McAdoo !! 

Sonny. (Over l. of well) You big stiff — you 
were holding out on me. (Takes letter eagerly.) 

Buddy, (r.c. standing r. of Biff) Gee. Your 
name came, near being funny, too. 

Sonny. It did indeed, Buddy — This is all right 
—but say Biff, can’t you find another one for me? 

Biff. Private Reginald De Courcey Pettingill! 
(Babe takes his fourth letter.) 

Buddy. (To Babe) Say, your folks must ’a’ 
bought a transport to get all that junk over. 

Biff. (Pause — Holding up a “mourning” en¬ 
velope ) Private Reube'n Dawson! 

Omnes. (Noticing the mourning envelope, they 
comment) Isn’t that too bad ? Poor Rube! Etc. 

Biff. Where is he? 

Sonny. He’s around 1 somewhere! I’ll take it! 
( xes to Biff and takes letter.) 

Biff. Break it to him easy. 

Sonny. I’ll try. Say listen, Biff, haven’t you 
got something more for me? 


42 


BUDDIES 


Biff. Nothing more for anybody — except this 
package for Private Reginald De Courcey Pettingill! 
(Hands Babe package.) 

Babe. (Taking it) Thank you! 

Biff. Inspection in fifteen minutes. Get thru 
with your mail and be on your toes! and let me see 
them guns all shined up, too! (Exit Biff up centre 
to right.) 

(Boys, except Buddy, sitting around, reading 
their letters. Babe sitting on bench at well. Sonny 
gets on bench l. Orderly on bench over r. Abie 
on ground r. Johnny up r. Buddy standing 
centre.) 

Buddy. Gee whiz! They all drew cards hut me 
— he’s a hell of a mail wagon! 

Babe. Buddy! 

Buddy. Yes! 

Babe. Didn’t you get any mail ? 

Buddy. No; they ain’t nobody to write to me. 
I was kinda stuck on Maggie Morrisey in Delancey 
Street before I enlisted and she said she’d write 
once a week—.but she ain’t licked a stamp. I guess 
she was kiddin’ me! Gee! It’s the most fun there 
is waiting for the mail to come in and grabbin’ ofif 
a hunk of news from home! 

Babe. Say, Buddy — how would you like to have 
one of mine—I got four! 

Buddy. (Eagerly) Could I? 

Babe. Sure! Wait a minute —(Looks over let¬ 
ters) That’s from mother — that’s from father— 
that’s from my kid sister—and that’s from my 
maiden aunt Euphefnia, she writes very sweet let¬ 
ters — you take it. (Gives it to him.) 

Buddy. For my own? 


BUDDIES 


43 


(Bus. of Sonny laughing and throwing himself 
down on bench.) 

Babe. Sure! 

Buddy. Gee! This is the first friendly letter I 
ever got in my life—I think Eli open it with prayer. 

Babe. (In French , calling off left) Marie! 
Babette! 

(Marie & Babette enter from house.) 

Marie & Babette. Oui, M’sieu — qu’est — qu’il 
—y— a? 

Babe. (In French) Marie — Babette—ai de mois 
d’ouvrer le packet, s’il vous plait. 

Marie Oui, tout de suite. 

(Marie and Babette help him cut the strings 
and open the package.) 

Buddy. I bet it’s somethin’ expensive! You 
didn’t cable for your evening clothes, did you, Babe ? 

Babe. No, you chump—Mom says in her letter 
she sent me some chocolate cake an'd cigarettes! 

(The other Boys, when they hear the words 
“Chocolate cake and cigarettes ” rise as one man and 
crowd around to see the package opened.) 

(The package is opened, revealing first a broken 
cigarette box with the cigarettes scattered all over 
and sticking into what was once a chocolate cake , 
but which is now flattened and smashed out of all 
resemblance to the original.) 

Babe. (Looking at it ruefully) Gee! Look at 
my beautiful chocolate cake! How do you suppose 
that happened? 


44 


BUDDIES 


Buddy. My idea is that in order to keep it safe 
the Captain sat on it all the way over. 

Johnny. You can’t tell which is the cake and 
which is the cigarettes! 

Marie. Eh bien, vous ne savez pas,-—Nous al- 
lons l’emporter dans la maison. 

Babette. (In French) Oh, yes, we will find a 
way to separate the cake fro'm the cigarettes! (Oui, 
et nous allons trouver une maniere de separer le 
gateau des cigarettes.) 

Babe. S’il vous plait. 

(Marie and Babette take package—go in house 
left. Babe reads letters — Boys return to previous 
positions and start to read letters again.) 

(Orderly on bench, r. Sonny on bench, l. 
Johnny up at barn, r. Abie sits on well.) 

Buddy. (Kneeling, to read, centre) Gee! Dis is 
a nice letter, it says— (Reads) “Dear Boy:—I know 
your heart is brave and stout and I know you do all 
the tasks given you cheerfully and well. (Bus.) 
When I wake each morning and hear the birds sing¬ 
ing outside my window my o!ne wish is that they 
migjit carry to you and sing in your heart all the 
prayers I say for your safety.” (Speaks) Say, 
Babe, I bet your Aunt is some nice woman. (Going 
to Babe) Did you give me this letter, on the level? 

Babe. Yes, Buddy; you’ll let me read it, of 
course. 

Buddy. Sure, when I get all thru. Just write 
my name on the envelope. (Buddy gives letter to 
Babe.) (Enter Rube c. from r.) I gotta hunch 
Maggie Morrisey couldn’t write a letter like dis in 
a t’ousand years—not if she learnt the typewriter! 

Rube. (Coming down c.) Gosh blame it! The 
mail’s in! (The other boys get up and all try to 
be extra kind to Rube.) 


BUDDIES 


45 


Johnny. (Up c.) Have a cigarette, Rube. (Gives 
it to him.) 

Abie. (Lighting a match) Take a light, Rube? 
(The match goes out.) 

Rube. Where’s the Sergeant—didn’t he bring 
no letter for me? 

Sonny. (Signals the others to go—all exit in 
barn — then he speaks to Rube) He—he toid me to 
tell you to wait till he got back! (The others fade 
off the scene in various directions—leaving Sonny 
and Rube alone. They sit on bench at well.) 

(READY SONG OFF STAGE) 

Rube. Funny about letters, ain’t it? How you 
look for them—and want them—and then if you 
git ’em you’re afeard to read ’em especially if some- 
one is ailin’ at home. 

Sonny. 'Someone ailin’ at your home, Rube? 

Rube. Yes. 

Sonny. And if you got bad news, Rube, you’d 
bear up Under it, wouldn’t you? 

Rube. Wouldn’t be nothing else to do, Sonny— 
three thousand miles away. 

Sonny. Well, what I mean is, you’d try and 
make yourself believe that everything is for the 
best, wouldn’t you? 

Rube. It ain’t easy to believe everythin’ is for 
the best. 

Sonny. We have to believe it, old pal. (Takes 
out the letter for Rube — gives it to him) I’m sorry, 
awfullv snrrv! 

(Quartette heard singing in distance off stage 
“Long, Long Trail — See No. 5 of score.) 

Rube. (Takes it — turns it over, acts as if stunned) 
Maw! 

Sonny. Maybe it isn’t—read it! (Rises and 
stands l. of well.) 


46 


BUDDIES 


Rube. (Opens the letter like one in a daze — 
reads—then speaks) When I see the letter I knowed 
it was Maw! Nights ago I knew! She—she went 
away—askin’—askin’ fer me! (His elbows on his 
knees—his head in his hands—he cries quietly — 
looks up presently and speaks —Sonny sits beside 
Rube.) You don’t think I’m weakenin’, do you, 
Sonny? She was my best friend and it’s goiin’ to 
be mighty lonesome without her. (Drops his head 
in his hands again—crying softly.) 

Sonny. She hasn’t left you at all—she’s still 
watching over you and praying for you and think¬ 
ing you’re the grandest kid in the world, just like 
she did ever since you were a baby! 

Rube. (Looking up) You sure are comfortin’ 
me, Sonny, and I ain’t never goin’ to forget. Maybe 
after all, it’s for the best—she suffered an awful 
lot. 

Sonny. There’s no suffering now—nothing but 
the mother spirit—and she’ll be sad when you’re 
sad and happy when you’re happy. 

(Rube gets up —Sonny also.) 

Rube. She’d want me to chirk up — wouldn’t she? 

Sonny. Yes, old man! 

Rube. The last thing she said to me was, “Rube, 
don’t never be what you ain’t—just be what you 
are—be a man—and play the game square!” 
(Sonny takes his arm and then walks over to c.) 
And you think if I smile a little and sort of chirk 
up it’ll make her spirit happier ? 

Sonny. I’m sure of it. 

Rube. (Shakes hands) Thank you, Sonny-— 
you done me a friendship I ain’t never forgettin’. 
We was always happy together and I—I— (Chokes 
up — then recovers — smiles at Sonny) I ain’t weak¬ 
enin’—it’s just awful hard to believe all of a sud- 


BUDDIES 


47 


den like that everything is for the best! (Exits — 
into the barn r.—Sonny picks up gun and starts to 
clean it.) 

(Enter Babe c. from r., trying to thread a needle. 
He is carrying a sewing kit.) 

Babe. (To Sonny) Did you break the news to 
Rube? 

Sonny. Yes. 

Babe. Who was it? 

(Buddy enters quietly from barn and goes to 
water bag—gets a drink and then stands leaning 
against side of door.) 

Sonny. His mother! 

Babe. Oh, that’s too bad! How did he take it? 

Sonny. Like a regular fellow. 

Buddy. Gee! I’m sorry for dat guy—he’s the 
right kilnd of goods. I was awful careless wit my 
own parents—I mislaid dem when I wasn’t old 
enough to know their faces—but I can be sorry for 
another guy, just de same! (Exits into barn.) 

Babe. (Coming down r.c.) Say, Sonny. 

Sonny. Yes, Babe! 

Babe. Put that thing down, I want to talk to 
you. 

Sonny. (Puts down gun) What’s on your mi'nd, 
Babe. 

Babe. Is there—is there some set formula for— 
for proposing to a girl—something one could learn 
by heart and just stand with one’s eyes closed and 
say it right off—something sure fire? 

Sonny, (c.) I never 'heard of it. 

Babe, (r.c.) That’s too bad. I wonder why 
Thomas Edison or some good inventor doesn’t take 


48 


BUDDIES 


that matter up. I think it would be very popular—- 
I’d buy one. 

Sonny. Why, you dolm’t need any artificial help 
—all you have to do is walk right up to your adored 
one and say, “Darling, I—” (Hesitates.) 

Babe. “Darling, I”—that wouldn’t get me any¬ 
thing. I. nearly get that far myself before I sink. 

Sonny. Oh, it all comes to you on the spur of 
the moment. 

Babe. The only thing that comes to me on the 
spur of the moment is to run for shelter like a jack 
rabbit. Do you mean to say you got engaged with 
that “Darling I” outburst? 

Sonny. Yes, practically—of course it’s all in 
the way you say it. (Fervently.) “Darling, I”— 
Well—if she’s the right kind of a girl, she stops 
you when you get that far and says—“Yes.” 

Babe. And all you said was “Darling, I”? 

Sonny.' Very nearly. 

Babe. And you got engaged? 

Sonny. Yes. 

Babe. Permanently ? 

Sonny. Certainly. 

Babe. Who is she? 

Sonny. Brooklyn girl. 

Babe. Oh, maybe it’s different in Brooklyn. 

Sonny. No, Brooklyn or France, it’s all the 
same. (Takes out photo.) I’ll show you her pic¬ 
ture. 

Babe. (Looking at it) Gee, Louise Maitland. 

Sonny. Great Scott! Do you know her? 

Babe. Sure I do. Met her in Pittsburgh three 
years ago, when sbe was visiting the Morrisons. 
She’s a corking good fellow. 

Sonny. (Sternly) Did you flirt with her? 

Babe. No; I didn’t flirt with her— I proposed 
to her! 


BUDDIES 


49 


Sonny. What! 

Babe. Only knew her about an hour—I was 
crazy about her then. But I got all over it in a 
week or so. 

Sonny. You proposed to her, eh? 

Babe. I sure did. 

Sonny. Where’s all your courage now that you 
can’t propose to Julie? 

Babe. Oh, it wasn’t courage I had then. I think 
at that time my brain hadn’t formed into a concrete 
mass. (Babe has been struggling all through this 
scene to thread the needle. Succeeds at this point 
and asks Sonny to grab the thread that is just 
through the eye of the needle.) Grab it, Sonny, 
grab it. Heard from Louise lately? 

Sonny. Not for three weeks—I’m worried— 
she said in her last letter she had a wonderful sur¬ 
prise for me—and I’ve been looking for packages 
a'nd parcels and letters—but nothing doing! 

Babe. Funny, isn’t it? I could tell Louise I 
loved her when I didn’t love her—and now that 
I do love Julie, I can’t even say “Good morning” 
to her. 

Sonny. Say, listen—What did Louise say to you 
when you had the colossal nerve to propose to her ? 

Babe. Oh, she laughed a little and said, “No, 
thank you! I’m engaged to marry the finest boy in 
the Borough of Brooklyn!” 

Sonny. (Happy) Oh, did she? (Kisses photo) 
She’s some girl—she is! 

Babe. Put that away. See what you can do with 
this thing. (Indicating button on blouse , hands 
Sonny needle and thread.) Here’s the needle. 
Here’s the button—Here’s the place. 

Sonny. Pretty soft for you. (Sewing.) 

Babe. Sonny, I’ve got a great idea. I was think¬ 
ing that you could speak to Julie for me. 


0 


50 


BUDDIES 


Sonny. No, Babe, that never works out the right 
way. Where’s all your courage, man. God knows 
you had enough of it a few months ago in the 
Argonne—you certainly walked up to those Huns 
all right. 

Babe. I didn’t say—“Darling, I”—it was another 
kind of an expression I used. 

Sonny. Well, why don’t you learn a little 
speech by heart, something like this: “Darling, I 
love you—will you marry me?” That’s short and 
to the point, isn’t it ? 

Babe. Well, it’s more comprehensive than— 
“Darling, I.” 

'Sonny. (Finishes sewing—bites off thread) 
Well, learn that and go out in the fields alone and 
practice. Just a minute. (Bus. of breaking thread.) 
(After bus. hands Babe needle and thread and 
crosses over to left) As I said, go out in the fields 
and practice—walk right up to a tree and say, 
“Darling, I love you.” You could walk up to a 
tree and say that, couldn’t you ? 

Babe. I guess so—if it were a dead tree. (Puts 
needle back in kit.) 

Sonny. Why, you poor thing, Julie is mad about 
you. She’s only waiting for a word from you to fall 
sobbing into your arms. 

Babe. Do you think that falling into my arms 
is an occasion for sobbing? 

Sonny. Oh, I’m only talking figuratively—Why, 
Julie loves you, I tell you. Didn’t you have a chance 
to talk to her alone right here a half hour ago? 

Babe. Yes. 

Sonny. Why didn’t you say something? 

Babe. Well, I was just going to say something 
and all of a sudden I felt I wanted a drink of 
water, so I went in the barn and got the cigarette 
I was looking for, 


BUDDIES 


5i 


Sonny. Oh, you’re hopeless. The girl loves you 
—and there was an opportunity that may never come 
again. I’m not going to give you any more advice 
and I don’t believe you could even say, “Darling, 
I” to a wooden Indian maid without breaking into 
a scarlet rash. (Starts up stage) Oh, well—I’ll 
help you out for the last time—now make believe I 
am Julie—What would you say—come on now— 
go to it. 

(Song Cue: “Darling,. I -■” (See' No. 6 

of Score.) 

(During song, Johnny enters from barn, goes to 
waterbag, then calls others out.) 

(After song- Julie enters from house and comes 
down to Babe. Babe turns and sees her—is over¬ 
come by his returning bashfulness and elbowing his 
way through the boys, he dashes off into the barn. 
All the boys follow him, laughing and guying his 
behavior. All have left the stage except Julie and 
Sonny.) 

Julie. Oh, Sonny, I could speak to you please? 

Sonny. You bet you can, Julie! 

Julie. We are engage now, all right. I have 
explain to Maman and she is say “God bless you 
for such a nice idea,” and I have tell Pettibois and 
he is get excite and swear and say he don’t believe 
it is true. 

Sonny. Oh, he did—did he? Well, we’ll put 
something over on that guy. 

Julie. He is bad man—and he is watch. Oh, 
I am so afraid. (Enter Alphonse from house. 
Julie sees him. Suddenly puts her arms around 
Sonny’s neck, her back to the barn.) He is here. 
Make the love. 



52 


BUDDIES 


(Babe comes from the barn — sees the picture and 
stops in dumb astonishment.) 

Sonny. (Seeing Babe) I can’t, he’s looking at 
me— 

Julie. Then I make it myself. (Making violent 
love to Sonny) Oh, cherie! I love you ! love you ! 
love-you ! (Kisses him—both arms around his neck.) 

Babe. Oh, my God! (Exits quickly in barn 

R.2.) 

Julie. (Quietly to Sonny) Make some answers 
—he is listen! 

(Alphonse goes down l. of well, listening.) 

'Sonny. (Both arms around her) My beautiful 
smile! I love you—love you—love you! 

Julie. (Quietly) Kiss me. 

Sonny. (Quietly) I promised not to kiss any 
woman- 

Julie. (Quietly) Brookline will excuse. Kiss 
me to save Julie—He is watch. 

Sonny. (Holding her close) My wonderful 
Julie—how I love you. (Kisses her—then quietly) 
Babe is a fool—he doesn’t know what he’s missing. 

Julie. Don’t speak of him now—business before 
pleasure. (Then loudly for effect) You are fine, 
brave husband and Julie love you to death. Oh, I 
love you so much the heart it go bumpty bumplike 
—it is in a hurry. (Pretends to see Alphonse for 
the first time. Pretends to be embarrassed, xeS to 
l.c. ) Oh, M’sieu Pettibois, you have seen me make 
love to my engagement—pardon me, I am so ashame 
— (To Sonny) If was no stranger here I tell you 
how much I am for love of you. (Starts up stage, 
then stops above well and bends over across the well 
to kiss Sonny) Au revoir, Cherie—I see you soon. 
(Exits into house l.) 



BUDDIES 


53 


(As Julie kisses Sonny , he gets up on the bench 
at well to reach her, and after she exits he jumps 
down and quite intentionally lands on Alphonse's 
foot.) 

Alphonse. (Howling with pain) Sacre mille— 
million de balle de cannon. (Jumping about hold¬ 
ing on to his injured foot.) 

Sonny. Did I hurt you? (xing to c.) 

Alphonse. Not much. 

Sonny. Better luck next time. Johnny—Johnny 
—(Calling off r.) 

Alphonse. (Limping over to Sonny at c.) She 
is nice girl, Julie? 

'Sonny. What’s that? 

Alphonse. I say Julie is a very nice girl! 

Sonny. Is she? 

Alphonse. Oh, yes. I think so—You are en¬ 
gaged with her? 

Sonny. What do you think? 

Alphonse. I think it looks like it. 

Sonny, (r.c. Bristling) Want to make any¬ 
thing out of it? 

Alphonse, (r.) Oh, nothing at all. Is nice 
idea . . . many fine-lookiing American soldiers 

in France they marry pretty French girls! Is won¬ 
derful idea! 

Sonny. What interest have you in Julie? 

Alphonse. Two thousand francs. 

Sonny. Go on—keep talking—maybe you’ll give 
me a good excuse to land on you in a minute. 

Alphonse. We talk later. (Goes to door of 
house.) 

(Enter Babe from barn—followed by Others.) 


54 


BUDDIES 


Sonny. And, listen! If you ever annoy my 
fiancee in any manner I’ll put the skids under you 
and roll you down the broad highway—get me? 

Alphonse. Oh, we talk bye and bye—I am glad 
always to talk to brave soldier . . . ! (Goes 

into house) (Sonny turns—sees Babe glaring at 
him.) 

(When Boys come on this time they , except Babe, 
have on marching equipment and guns. They put 
guns on bench r. and on well. Buddy and Abie put 
guns on bench over r.) 

Babe. (To Sonny) Say! What the hell are 
you trying to do? 

Sonny. Nothing. 

Babe. Isn’t one girl enough for you to be en¬ 
gaged to? 

Sonny. Oh, I don’t know. 

(Boys watch.) 

Babe. You don’t know, eh? What do you want 
to lie to me for? 

Sonny. Don’t you call me a liar. 

Babe. Kidding me with all this “Darling I” stuff, 
eh? Telling me to go out in the fields and talk to 
a tree while you stay here and make love to her— 
you’re a fine buddy, you are! 

(Biff enters and stands in barn door.) 

Sonny. Oh, shut up! 

Babe. (Wild-eyed) I won’t shut up! You lied 
and you stole her from me — you stiff — (Makes a 
pass at Sonny, who dodges — the Boys rush in to 
separate them. Abie gets in between them. Buddy 


BUDDIES 


55 

runs off into the barn and returns immediately with 
two sets of boxing gloves.) 

Sonny. I’ll knock his block off. 

Babe. Well, knock it off, it isn’t much of a block 
anyway. 

(Biff gets down between Babe and Sonny as 
they rush at each other.) 

Biff. Wait a minute — now wait — there’s only 
one way to settle an argument in this squad. Buddy, 
give me those gloves. 

(Buddy hands one set to Biff, who hands them 
to Babe, at the same time hands the other set to 
Sonny. Buddy and Abie help Babe into his gloves. 
Biff helps Sonny into his.) 

(To Babe) Put ’em on. One minute rounds — 
Marquis of Queensbury rules — Break clean — 
Johnny, you’re the time-keeper—Ready! 

(Johnny looks at his wrist watch and when he 
secs that Babe, and Sonny are ready, he calls.) 

Johnny. Time! 

Biff. Shake hands. 

(They shake hands and then start to fight. All 
through this scene All the Boys keep up a running 
fire of talk, encouraging the boys to fight. After a 
short interval, during which they fight, Johnny calls 
“Time.”) 

Johnny. Time! 

(Babe and Sonny return to their respective cor¬ 
ners, where the backers of both fan them and go 


56 


BUDDIES 


through the general line of preparing them for the 
next round. After a short interval — During interval 
bus. of hitting Abie by Babe.) 

Biff. (Calling) Time! 

(At the call of time the Boys start mixing it in 
the c. of the stage. Julie enters from the house, 
sees the boys fighting — rushes between them and 
speaks.) 

Julie. What you do, eh? You want for kill 
each other with the pillows on the hands! You 
are perhaps a couple of school boys you fight like 
this — I am ashamed for you both - 

Abie. (On well) You got it right, Julie. 
(Sonny swings on Abie.) 

Julie. . Oh, M’sieu Babe, you are wound. 

Babe, (r.) He never touched 1 me. 

Sonny. I did, too. I got in a corking good wal¬ 
lop on the jaw, didn’t I, Johnny? 

Johnny. I think you did. 

Julie. Now the war is all over, you are kiss and 
make up. 

Sonny, (xing over to Babe) Well, I’ll make 
up, but I’m darned if I’ll kiss him. (Extends his 
hand to Babe and then dashes off into barn followed 
by Babe.) 

Buddy. (Coming down to Julie at c.) What 
do you think of Battling Babe and One-Round Mc- 
Adoo? Some nifty little scrap, yes? 

Julie. Oh, it was so thrilling- — I get so excite. 

Buddy. Well, if that’s the way you feel about it, 
why didn’t you let them go to a finish? 

Julie. How I know whose finish it’s going to be? 
(Buddy turns up stage) (To Biff) Sergeant, 
may I speak to you ? 



BUDDIES 


57 


Biff. (Coming down to Julie) Certainly. 

Julie. Why are they fight like that with the 
pillows ? 

Biff. I think it was a duel over a beautiful young 
lady. 

Julie. How romantic! Who is the beautiful 
young lady? 

Biff. I’m sorry I can’t tell you—it’s a squad 
secret. 

Julie. You teach me to fight with the pillows— 
I beat you—you tell me squad secret ? 

Biff. I’m sorry—that would be against army 
regulations. 

Julie. Oh, je m’en fiche des army r-r-regula- 
tions. (xes over to l. Biff blows whistle as he 
xes over to r.) 

Biff. Oui—oui—Mademoiselle (Blows whistle) 
On the line ! Snap her up now ! 

(Boys pick up their guns and go into squad for¬ 
mation over at r. Enter Sonny and Babe from 
barn with tfieir equipment. Sonny goes to well and 
picks up his gun. Babe brings his gun on with him.) 

Sonny. (Entering) Come on, Babe. 

Babe. Sonny, I’ve got the courage now—I’m 
going to tell her. 

Sonny. Well, go ahead and tell her. 

Babe. You bet I’ll tell her! (Sonny xes over 
and takes his place in the squad. Babe goes down 
to Julie and speaks with a desperate effort) Darling 

I- 

Biff. Fall in! 

Babe. Darling—I- 

Biff. (Bellowing) Fall in!! 

Babe. (To Julie) I’ve got to go ... . 

(xes over and takes his place in the squad.) 




58 


BUDDIES 


Biff. Squad ’tention—Right dress—Front—In¬ 
spection arms—Order arms—Right shoulder arms— 
Right face—Mark time—March—Forward—Route 
Step—March! 

(Led by Biff the Boys march off c. to r. in col¬ 
umns of twos, singing “L’ltalie”—See No. 7 of 
score — Sonny and Babe bring up the rear and as 
they pass Julie over l., Babe attempts to speak to 
her. Sonny pulls him back into place again and 

CURTAIN 

1st Curtain: Julie watching the Boys as they 
disappear in the distance. 

2nd Curtain : Everybody on for a call. 

3rd Curtain : Julie, Babe and Sonny. 
and 

all subsequent 
curtains. 


“BUDDIES” 


ACT II. 

Scene: Same as Act I. 

Time: That afternoon. 

Property List: [On Stage:] 

2 wooden howls with potatoes and tivo knives. 

[Off Stage:] 

Letter in envelope for Sonny. 

Revolver for Julie. 

2 pots of coffee—steaming hot. 

Small hand hag for Louise. 

Discovered : Madame Benoit is sitting on well at 
centre and Alphonse Pettibois is pacing up 
stage. She is greatly distressed and he is angry. 
Marie and Babette are seated at left on a 
bench by the house. They are peeling potatoes 
—from time to time they whisper together and 
watch their mother anxiously. 

Alphonse. What is the use ? What is the use ? 
C'here Madame, you know nothing about this busi¬ 
ness. How to feed a lot of people. You think you 
do great things to this boys and cheat me out of my 
money. (Pacing up and down stage c.) 

Mme. Benoit. Cheat you ! (Rises.)- 
Alphonse. Yes, cheat me. And I am stand this 
no longer! You should give these soldiers what is 
cheap and we save this money. 



59 


6o 


BUDDIES 


Mme. Benoit. (Indignantly) Mais — M’sien' 
Pettibois! (To Marie and Babette in French) 
Go in the house, children, there is nothing to worry, 
about. (Mes enfants, rentrez a la mais on—il n’est 
rien de s’en quieter.) 

Marie & Babette. .Oui, Maman! (Marie and 
Babette go in the house—reluctantly.) 

Mme. Benoit. (To Alphonse) I will give these 
boys the same meals I always give them. (Enter 
Julie from the house and comes down c.) 

Alphonse. (Over r.c.) No — no — mille fois non 
— I will tell you what kind of meals to give them. 

Julie, (c.) What is the matter with this per¬ 
son now, Maman? 

Alphonse, (r.c .Amorously) Ah! The beauti¬ 
ful Julie! I am not see you for a long time and you 
are so good to look at! (Attempts to pat her shoul¬ 
der — Julie resents it.) 

Julie, (c.) You are keep your hands off me, 
please! 

Alphonse, (r.c.) Soon, perhaps, you give me 
the right to put my arms around you? 

Julie. Give you such a right! Why are you 
speak this way to me when you know I am engage 
to marry American soldier? 

Alphonse, (r.c.) Oh, ma petite—why are you 
so foolish — so childish ? I offer to • make you a 
splendid husband and you let this American twist 
you around his little finger — : comme ca—he make 
plenty promise—he talk loud — he get what he wants 
—then he laugh at you and march away. He is no 
good. 

Julie, (c.) It is lie. The American soldier is 
a fine brave boy. He is come here three thousand 
miles for be seasick, for be homesick, for be lone¬ 
some, and he is never complain; and all the time 
he is go for make everybody happy with the smile 


BUDDIES 


61 


on the face. You never see him with the head 
bowed down and the trouble in the knees. No, 
you see him with the shoulders thrown back, the 
heart beating steady, and the brave light in the eyes 
he step up to death himself and he say, “Hello, 
Kid, you wish for play tag with me?” He is leave 
his comfortable home and come over the ocean to 
fight and die for Maman, for Marie and Babette, 
for Julie, and for you, M’sieu, for you. So we can 
all have the liberty to live our lives, and you say 
he is no good — hah — then Julie — say — you are a 
damn to hell liar. 

Alphonse. (In a rage) So, you are call me 
this, eh? 

Julie. Yes, and if I could think of something 
more worse I call you that, too! I want you go 
away from our house now! I wish never to see 
your ugly face again. (Goes to mother and puts 
arms about her.) 

Mme. Benoit. Julie! 

Alphonse. (Furious, but restraining himself) 
Oh, so! I have the ugly face? 

Julie. (Speaking over her shoulder) Oui, like 
gargoyle on Notre Dame. 

Mme. Benoit. Julie, please! 

Alphonse, (r.c.) So you think this, eh? 

Julie, (c.) Oui, I think this. Also you are one 
fat spider and you go for catch the poor little flies 
in the web. 

Alphonse. (Pacing up and down r. stage) 
(Very' angrily) I am a fat spider?—I am a fat 
spider—Well*, maybe you think I am fine gentleman 
when I offer to marry the sister of a thief. 

Mme. Benoit, (l.c. Greatly distressed) Oh, 
M’sieu, please! Please! 

Julie. (Not yet realising) What is this? 

Alphonse. (To Julie) Your brother, Pierre, 


62 


BUDDIES 


lie steal 2,000 francs from me when he is work in 
my cafe in New York, voila! 

Julie. (Intensely angry) You say this to me 
when my brother is dead on the battlefield and my 
mother wear the Croix de Guerre his country send 
her because Pierre is a brave boy—you say he is a 

thief - you—you—you— (Julie runs wildly in the 

_ 'K'hCjfa't J 

Mme. Benoit, (c.) Oh, Mon Dieu! You have 
spoiled her whole life. 

Alphonse, (x. to c.) I am gentleman—the 
truth hurts nobody. 

(Enter Julie from the barn with an army re¬ 
volver left there by one of the boys—she levels it at 
Alphonse.) 

Julie. (To Alphonse) You are apologize to 
Maman and to me for what you say and you are do 
this quick ! Quick! 

Mme. Benoit. (Crossing in front of Alphonse 
—Stopping her) Oh, Julie! Julie! It is true! It 
is true! 

Julie. (Weakly) It is true, Maman? (Lowers 
revolver.) 

Alphonse. (Who has shown signs of agitation 
when the revolver covered him and is easier noiv) 
Oui—it is true! But I am a gentleman. I never 
tell you this if you are not speak about spiders— 
and if you break your engagement with this M’sieu 
Sonnay, I am the most amiable gentleman it is pos¬ 
sible for nice man to be! (Exit Alphonse at l.) 

(Mme. Benoit sinks on bench at well.) 

Julie. (To Madame Benoit who is crying) 
Maman, why are you keep this from me? 



BUDDIES 63 

Mme. Benoit. It is better you don’t know it, 
Julie. 

Julie. Is better I do know it, so I share this sor¬ 
row with you. Whatever the mistake my brother 
is make in his life he is atone for everything in his 
death. (Comforting her) There, there, Maman, 

you are not to cry. Maybe the kind God- (Squad 

heard singing off in the distance, “LTtalie,” as they 
are returning from the drill) has got some good 
ideas for us yet—it is not always to be dark, Maman 
— and when the sunshine is come again maybe we get 
our share, too. So. You are rest for a little while 
and Julie is talk to you, and we are not let the 
world see we are ashamed for anything. So, that 
is a good Maman. (They exit into house.) 

(The returning Squad heard off singing “LTtalie” 
louder as they approach closer to the house.) 

(They enter, lead by Biff, in a column of twos; 
centre from right, and execute the commands as 
given, as they enter.) 

Biff. Column right march—column left march 
— by the right flank — march — squad halt — Inspec¬ 
tion arms — port arms — dismissed. 

(They break ranks and Babe exits at once into 
the barn where he gets rid of his equipment.) 

(The Boys keep up a running fire of chatter, com¬ 
menting on the zvarm work of the drill, etc., etc., 
zvhen Marie and Babette enter from the house with 
large pots of steaming coffee.) 

Marie & Babette. Ah — Bon jour, M’sieu Son- 
nay. 

Sonny. Bon jour, Mademoiselle. 

Marie. Vous n’savez pas? Vous revenez de 



6 4 


BUDDIES 


l'exercise aussi vous devez etre tres fatigue—Maman 
vous a prepare du cafe bien chaud. 

Johnny. Sonny, what he say? 

Sonny. He say—hot coffee. (Takes Marie's 
arm and exits into barn.) (The Boys greet the 
Girls' announcement with great joy as they all exit 
into barn.) 

Omnes. (Ad lib) Great, fine—me for the cof¬ 
fee—etc., etc. (While off stage they dispose of their 
equipment.) 

(After they are all off Alphonse enters from 
left ist.) 

Alphonse. Saere mille tonerre—I am a fat 
spider. 

(Enter Louise Maitland from centre. She is 
dressed in a travelling costume, quiet but smart look¬ 
ing. She carries a small handbag. She is about to 
go to the door of the house, but seeing Alphonse 
she stops—he turns and sees her.) 

Louise. Pardon me, is this Madame Benoit's 
house? (Coming down c.) 

Alphonse, (l.c. left of well, very effusively) 
Oh, oui — Madame Benoit live in this house. 

Louise. There is a squad of American soldiers 
billeted here? 

Alphonse. Oh, oui — oui — You are an American 
girl, n’est pas? 

Louise. Yes, Lam. 

Alphonse. Your brother is a soldier here? 

Louise. No. 

Alphonse. Your husband? 

Louise. I am not married. 

Alphonse. Not married — oh! That is too bad! 
Such a beautiful girl — such eyes with the soul in 
them. 


BUDDIES 


65 


Louise. Just what do you mean? 

Alphonse. Oh, that’s all right! I am not mar¬ 
ried also. We are perhaps to be very good friends! 
I have amiable disposition—-and I am gentleman. 

(Enter Babe centre from right.) 

Louise. I’m so glad you told me — I was be¬ 
ginning to doubt it. 

Babe. ( Seeing her — is. astonished) Louise Mait¬ 
land! (Shaking hands) Well, — by all the Gods of 
War! 

Louise. Babe! Oh! What a wonderful sur¬ 
prise — I had no idea you were here! 

Babe. Well, I am glad to see you. 

Alphonse. We are all very glad to see you. 

Babe. (To Alphonse) Will you please excuse 
us? (Crossing to Alphonse at left.) 

Alphonse. Certainly! Two is company and I 
am gentleman — always a gentleman. (Exit Al¬ 
phonse at left.) 

Louise. (Following Babe over left) Who is 
that dreadful person? 

Babe. Search me. He’s always trying to remind 
himself that he is a gentleman. — but do sit down and 
tell me all about it. (They sit on bench at left.) 

Louise. First of all, is Sonny here? 

Babe. Yes — he’s very much here. 

Louise. That’s splendid, you see I came over to 
Paris with father — he’s connected with the Peace 
Commission — father found out where Sonny’s regi¬ 
ment was stationed — and then he reluctantly agreed 
to let me take the train alone and come here to see 
Solnny — but it’s quite all right — isn’t it, Babe, when 
you’re engaged? 

Babe. Oh, yes, it’s quite all right — when you’re 
engaged. 

Louise. I’ve been two hours trying to find out 


66 


BUDDIES 


where he was billeted. I thought I’d give him a 
pleasant little shock. 

Babe. It will be a pleasant little shock all right. 

Louise. I wrote him some time ago that I had 
a big surprise in store for him. 

Babe. Oh, it’s a dandy surprise!— a corking sur¬ 
prise! (With a triumphant expression he cannot re¬ 
sist) The mills of the gods grind slow but they 
grind exceedingly small. 

Louise. Apropos of what ? 

Babe. Oh, nothing! It makes me poetical just 
to see you again, Louise! You know, it’s the queer¬ 
est thing—the assurance I have when I am with you. 
(Takes her hand boldly.) I can take your hand— 
and snuggle up close—why I could rush right up to 
you and say “Darling I”—just as though you were 
a dead tree. 

Louise. A dead tree—what do you mean, Babe? 

Babe. Oh, I’m just getting poetical—but it’s 
wonderful the assurance I have when I am with 
you . . . dearest. 

Louise. Dearest?—what’s that.for? 

Babe. Oh, just because I am at ease, sweetie. 

Louise. (Laughing) Aren’t you at ease with 
your other girl friends? 

Babe. Not with all of them — I mean ONE of 
them—when she is near me—when she was near 
me, I seemed to be forever giving my famous imita¬ 
tion of a jelly-fish. 

Louise. Oh, Babe! You must be terribly in 
love with her? 

Babe. I was—-but I’m not— 

Louise. Why ? 

Babe. She’s gone! 

Louise. Dead? 

Babe. Just as bad. Engaged to another man. 
(Taking her hand.) Angel of light, when I look into 
your eyes— 


BUDDIES 67 

Louise. Wait a minute, Babe—You know I’m 
already engaged and I’m in love. 

Babe. I was merely using you as a dead tree— 
but I did propose to you once, didn’t I? 

Louise. (Laughing) Yes, about an hour after 
you’d met me. 

Babe. Was I romantic and convincing? 

Louise. I should say you were—I believe I would 
have accepted you if I hadn’t been so much in love 
with Sonny. 

Babe. (Rises) Oh, Sonny! Of course! (xes 
to c.) 

Louise. What’s the matter? (Rising.) 

Babe. Oh, nothing! 

Louise. There’s nothing wrong with Sonny, is 
there? (Following Babe to c.) 

Babe. Oh, no! There’s* nothing wrong with 
Sonny! He’s there, that boy. 

Louise. I’m so glad! My train leaves for Paris 
at ten o’clock—tout we can talk a lot in four hours, 
can’t we? 

Babe. Yes—if you’re not interrupted. 

Louise. Is there a chance of our being inter¬ 
rupted ? 

Babe. There’s a lively little Lrench chance of 
your being interrupted. 

Louise. Oh, well—we must make the best of it. 
I suppose Sonny has talked to yon' a lot about me ? 

Babe. Not an awful lot. 

Louise. Why not? 

Babe. Well, he didn’t know until this morning 
that you and I were acquainted—and he’s had a 
fairly busy day. 

(Enter Sonny from the barn at r.) 

Sonny. Say, Babe! I don’t like the idea of— 
(He sees Louise who has turned and faced him — 


68 


BUDDIES 


smiling.) My God ! Louise! (Pushes Babe out of 
the way and embraces her — kisses her.) 

Babe. (Exasperated. After recovering from the 
shove up stage, he comes down l. of Louise.) 
That’s the best thing he does. (Exits at l.) 

Sonny, (r.c. ELolding her off.) Oh, you won¬ 
derful girl. How did this miracle happen. 

Louise, (c.) Father brought me to Paris with 
him. 

Sonny. Why didn’t you write and tell me? 

Louise. If I told you there wouldn’t be any sur¬ 
prise. 

(Enter Alphonse from house left. He sees 
Sonny •and Louise — stops — watches them.) 

Sonny. It’s the most wonderful surprise I ever 
had in my life. (Laughs.) 

Louise. You are glad to see me? 

Sonny. Glad! (Takes her in his arms—kisses 
her, Alphonse hurries in the house.) 

Louise. Is it quite all right for me to be here? 

Sonny. Of course! How long can you stay? 

Louise. I must go back on the ten o’clock train. 

Sonny. Oh, no, dear—It can’t be done- 

(Music Cue: See Number 9 in Score.) 

(After the song, Louise and Sonny are on bench 
at well.) 

Sonny. Now tell me all about the folks—how’s 
your mother? 

Louise. Mother’s splendid. She sent her love. 

Sonny, (r.c.) Let me have it. 

(Alphonse and Julie enter from house and re¬ 
main on door step. .Alphonse points to Sonny 
an 4 Louise.) 



BUDDIES 69 

(Louise puts her arms around Sonny and kisses 
him.) 

Louise, (c.) There. 

(Babe enters from left —and stands watch¬ 

ing them.) 

Sonny. Anybody else in the family send their 
love? 

Louise. Aunt Emily did. 

Sonny. Let me have it. 

(Louise kisses him again.) 

Louise. There. 

Julie. (To Alphonse) Is alright. She say 
mother—she say aunt—she is sister—Sonny ! Sonny ! 
(Coming down r. of well.) 

Sonny. (Rising) Oh, Lord! Oh, Lord! 

Julie. (Coming down to right of Sonny and 
Louise— speaks to Louise. When Julie addresses 
Sonny, he and Louise rise and start right. Julie 
gets in between them.) You are sister of Sonny? 
I am glad to meet you. I always want for meet 
my husband’s sister. 

Louise. (Astonished) Why—he—What—Babe— 
I don’t understand — (Louise xes to Babe left.) 

(Julie goes quickly to Sonny, who is rattled and 
has moved away to right. She speaks quietly and 
intensely to him.) 

Julie. For God’s sake keep the promise you 
made to Julie. Pettibois will disgrace Julie and her 
mother if you don’t do this. 

Sonny. (Terribly embarrassed) But Julie, don’t 
you see I- 






70 


BUDDIES 


Julie. (Intensely as before) I swear this is true 
and it will (break Julie’s heart—make the love, your 
sister is not care. (Then lovingly—lifting her pas¬ 
sive arms around his neck.) Ah, cherie Sonny. 
You have in the heart such a love for Julie—and 
Julie love you so very much. (Kisses him—holds him 
tight with his head on her shoulder. Louise is 
dumb with surprise and deeply hurt.) 

Louise, (To Babe) It seems I shouldn’t have 
come here after all. 

Sonny. (r.c.— Excitedly speaking to Julie) 
Now run along, Julie—will you excuse me just a 
minute— 

(Julie smiles at Louise — then speaks to Sonny.) 

Julie. You are bring your sister in for meet my 
mother soon, not so? 

Sonny. Yes—Julie—certainly. 

Julie. (Turns to Alphonse, who has watched 
the scene somewhat bewildered) My engagement 
husband have very nice sister, is it not? (Julie 
runs into house.) 

Sonny. (Starts towards house) Now Louise— 

Alphonse. (To Sonny) This girl tells me she 
has inio brother in the war—how is it she is your 
sister? 

(Sonny starts to take off his coat as if to beat 
up Alphonse, whereupon Alphonse in great fear 
rushes into the house.) 

Sonny. (To Alphonse) You big stiff. I’ll 
knock your block off. (Then to Louise) Louise! 
Please let me explain. 

(Babe sits on bench left , chuckling to himself.) 


BUDDIES 


7 1 


Louise. (Haughtily) What is there to explain? 

Sonny. Well, of course, I suppose it did look 
a 'bit queer, but you see — 

Louise. ( Coldly) A scene of such ardent affec¬ 
tion always looks queer in public. 

Sonny. But Louise, you don’t understand. 

Louise. Oh, yes, I do, my eyesight is very good 
and my hearing quite all right. 

Sonny. I didn’t do anything. 

Louise. (Witheringly) Of course not—men 
never do anything—(S onny crosses to c.) they are 
such passive creatures — (Suddenly following 
Sonny to c.) She kissed you, didn’t she? 

Sonny. Yes — but —she’s a French girl and she’s 
emotional and temperamental—and, besides, it was 
only don!e for a purpose. 

Louise. My humiliation—a laudable purpose. 

Sonny. No, no, dear; you see I had no idea you 
would be here . . . and I—I— 

Babe. Darling I — 

Sonny. Oh, shut up ! ( Continuing to Louise) 

I gave her my sacred word of honor— 

Louise. (Turning to him angrily) So, that’s it! 
You had no idea I would be here and you gave her 
your sacredl word of honor—what a strange habit 
to cultivate—giving- your word of honor to every 
girl who interests you. 

Sonny. Honey, please let me explain- — 

Louise. (Interrupting) Don’t try to explain 
any further— please! Every word you say makes 
it worse. 

Louise. (To Babe) Oh, Mr. Pettingill—I want 
so much to talk to you. Babe. 

Babe. Yes, Weezey ! 

Sonny. (Wildly) Weezey, Weezey, Weezey! 
(Walks off angrily into barn at r.) 


72 


BUDDIES 


(Louise drops on bench at well and cries —Babe 
sits with her—slight pause.) 

Babe. No use to cry, Louise. ■ . 

Louise. (Looking up — “dabbing” her eyes) I’m 
n'ot crying. There’s toothing to make me unhappy, 
is there? Certainly not. See how I’m smiling! 
Why don’t you smile, too? 

Babe. I am—a little! 

Louise. —Is she the one you are m love with ? 

BAbe. She’s the one I was in love with. 

Louise. Are in love with, I said. 

Babe. Past tense—was ! 

Louise. Are! 

Babe. You win! Pm too happy to argue with 
you. 

Louise. Both of us caught in the avalanche! 
But there’s really no reason to be upset, is there? 

Babe. No, indeed! (Sighs deeply.) 

Louise. No reason! (Sighs deeply.) 

Babe. Notoe at all. (Sighs.) 

Louise. (With bravado) It does give one a 
rather exhilarating thrill to be jilted, doesn’t it? 

Babe. Yes—but it’s more exhilarating for you, 
I suppose, because you’d gone so far as to pick out 
your dining room furniture! 

Louise. (Tearfully) No, but I had picked out 
the house in Brooklyn—We were to live on Pine¬ 
apple Street. 

Babe. My forwarding address is Lemon Avenue. 
(With emotion, taking her hand) Angel of light, 
when I look into your eyes. (Pause.) 

Louise. What’s the rest of it? 

Babe. I don’t think there is any rest of it. 

Louise. Well, why not try to go on to some bit¬ 
ter finish? 


BUDDIES 


73 

Babe. You mean with a view to our becoming 
engaged ? 

Louise. What do you think? 

Babe. It’s entirely in your hands. 

Louise. Don’t you think it’s easier for two peo¬ 
ple to forget together than it is for one persoln, to 
remember alone? 

Babe. Yes, I do. (Taking her hand) Angel 
of light, when I look into your eyes, I seem to see 
a moving picture of a storm-swept sea of circum¬ 
stances and two battered hulks are tossing, tossing 
helplessly thereon—and you are one hulk—a very 
pretty hulk—and I am the other hulk—and you 
are so sorry for me—tossing! tossing! And I am 
so sorry for you, tossing! tossing! and I’m going 
to tell you that I have a great pity for you, tossing! 
tossing! and I’m going to ask you if pity isn’t akin! 
to love? 

Louise. ( After a pause—looking up at him 
shyly) Yes, Babe. • (She kisses him.) 

Babe. Thank you, dear—when shall we be 
married ? 

Louise. That depends upon how long we are 
engaged in forgetting. 

(Enter Sonny from the barn with a letter in his 
hand , Babe and Louise rise haughtily.) 

Sonny. (Offering letter) Here you are, Louise 
—since yon' won’t let me tell you—here’s a full 
written explanation of the whole thing. 

(Babe stops him.) 

Babe. Pardon me, Mr. McAdoo, but my fiancee 
has but a short time to spend with me and I’m 
sure you’ll excuse her if she denies herself the 
pleasure of perusing your latest literary output. 


o 


74 


BUDDIES 


Louise. (To Babe, imitating Julie’s dialect) 
Ah, cherie Babe, you have in the heart such a love 
for Louise and Louise she is love you so very much. 

Babe. (Babe kisses her , then winks at Sonny) 
Did you get that ? 

(Louise and Babe with their arms around each 
other’s waists exit at left.) 

Sonny. (Utterly dumfounded) My God! 
(Sits on bench at well.) 

(Enter Julie from the house.) 

Julie. Soninay! 

Sonny. Yes, Julie! 

Julie. What is the matter? 

Sonny. Nothing! 

Julie. Son-nay, there is tear in your eye. 

Sonny. No, no, Julie, you’re mistaken. (Rises 
— crosses to c.) 

Julie. She is sweet girl, your sister. (Folloiv- 
ing Sonny.) 

Sonny. She’s not my sister. 

Julie. No; she is cousin? 

Sonny. She isn’t any relation at all — she — she 
was my sweetheart. 

Julie. (Astonished) You sweetheart. 

Sonny. Yes. 

Julie. From Brookline, U. S. A.? 

Sonny. From Brooklyn — yes. 

Julie. (In great distress) Oh, Sonniay! Why 
you not tell me this, I am die for shame! I think 
she is just some nice girl you have for relation and 
she is come here to say, “Bon jour- — au revoir!” 
because I know you have sweetheart in Brook¬ 
line, U. S. A. of America but I never know she 
is over that ocean. 


BUDDIES 


75 


Sonny. It’s all right, Julie! -I gave you my 
word of honor and I kept it because I felt that you 
were in deeper trouble than I was. 

Julie. No. No! Never is there any trouble 
in my heart so deep that Julie would bring tears 
to your eyes, Sonny. And this fine girl you have 
for sweetheart she thinks when her face is gone 
you make love to foolish little French girl—and 
Julie have done this for save herself—Oh, I am 
ashame—I am shame— 

Sonny. (Comforting Julie) You mustn’t feel 
badly about it, Julie. 

Julie. (Cries—stops suddenly) But it is not 
too late for Julie to do the one thing that is right. 
Attendez—attendez— (She runs to the door of the 
barn and calls) Mes enfants, ici—ici—I make a 
speech— (She then jumps on the bench at the well.) 

Sonny. Julie, what are you going to do? 

(All the Boys come on from the barn. Alphonse 
enters from up centre and goes down left.) 

Julie. Listen, everybody. Julie is play big 
practical joke and now Julie is ashame because she 
is play this joke so she tell the truth to everybody. 
Julie is go to M’sieu Sonny and tell him she has 
great troubles in the heart and ask him to engage 
to her to protect her, and M’sieu Soninay is a fine 
boy and he say “Certainly-—if I could help you 
from your troubles.” But Julie has n!o troubles. 
Julie is the happiest girl in France and for a joke 
she has got herself engaged to M’sieu Sonnay to 
make another man jealous. Ha—ha—ha—is good 
joke, mes enfants, a very good joke. Julie is not 
care that— (She snaps her fingers) for Sonnay— 
and he is not care that— (As before) for Julie— 
so this foolish engagement is broke—And Julie 


o 


;6 


BUDDIES 


is marry, right away, fine gentleman—M’sieu' Al¬ 
phonse Pettibois — (Alphonse takes a delighted 
step towards her — Julie’s voice grows weaker) 
Because—because she is love him so very much. 
(Julie- totters and falls sobbing in Sonny’s arms. 
He consoles her and takes her off into the house l.) 

(The Boys separate into groups at left, at centre, 
and at right. They stare menacingly at Alphonse, 
who struts about down in the left corner.) 

(Biff enters and stands in barn door.) 

Alphonse. (Down left) She’s mine—she’s 
mine. I am the happiest man in the world, the 
happi — Salute, mes braves— (Then Alphonse be¬ 
comes nervous under the cold accusing gaze of the 
Boys as they slowly advance on him.) Why you 
look at me like this? I am a happy man, I go for 
the notary — Oh, I am so glad to have such fine 
American soldiers for my guests. 

(The Boys make a rush at him.) 

Biff. (Coming down centre) Steady there— 
what’s going on here? 

(The Boys stop and turn to Biff.) 

Buddy. Say — Sergeant — Won’t you please go 
out and leave us alone with this guy? 

Biff. Easy Buddy. (To Alphonse) Hello! 

Alphonse. Hello ! 

Biff. Where have I seen you before? 

Alphonse. Oh, me — you see me here—there — 
everywhere. 

Biff. Don’t kid me. 

Alphonse. Oh ! —Ho — inio — no — 

Biff. You’re kidding me — 


BUDDIES 


77 




Alphonse. Oh, no, no, jamais la vie—no—no 
-—I am very well known man—I am a. very cos¬ 
mopolitan man—Alphonse Pettibois—international 
man— (During this speech he is gradually edging 
his way up stage, and starts to sing a French song 
and exits up c .) 

Biff. (Ruminating at centre) Say, Johnny, 
somewhere Eve run across that guy before—It’ll 
come back to me— (During this speech the Boys 
are gradually sneaking up stage in an attempt to 
get off at Alphonse without the Sergeant seeing 
them. As the Sergeant turns he sees what they are 
up to.) Steady there. Do you want to get in 
wrong? 

(The Boys come hack down stage angry at being 
caught.) 

Johnny. (Over at window l.) Did you see 
the fear in Julie’s eyes when she said she’d marry 
him—my God, man, it made you want to cry just 
to look at her. 

(Enter Sonny from house l.) 

Sonny. Where is he? 

Buddy. (Up centre) The Pollywog has went 
for the Notary—I hope he chokes. 

Sonny. (To Biff at centre) Sergeant, give 
me a half hour’s leave to run down to the village, 
will you? 

Buddy. (Over right of Biff — eagerly) What 
are you going to do, Sonny, mess him up? 

Biff. Nothing doing. 

Sonny. No, no, Sergeant, I want to see if I 
can’t get something on that loafer. I know he’s a 
crook — I tell you there’s something dead wrong 


o 


78 


BUDDIES 


because Julie’s going through with it—she says 
nothing can stop her, but I want to try. 

Biff. All right, Sonny—go ahead. 

Sonny. Thanks, Sergeant. (Exits up centre 
to right.) 

(Biff goes in the barn. Johnny straggles off 
into the barn during next speeches.) 

Buddy. (To Abie) What’s that Pettibois stiff 
tryin’ to put over on us, anyway? 

(Enter Babe from left.) 

Babe. Say, Buddy! 

Buddy. (Over r.c.) I’m not speaking to you. 

Babe. What’s the idea. 

Buddy. Julie is going to marry Pettibois, that’s 
’the idea. 

Babe. (Astounded) What? 

Abie, (c.) She tells us all, understand me, 
that this is a joke about her being engaged to 
Sonny. 

Buddy. Oh, I was wise to that all the time— 
That was only a stall. But I don’t get this Petti¬ 
bois switch. 

Babe. (Dazed) You say she is going to marry 
Pettibois ? 

Abie. In a minute—he’s out now looking for 
a cheap notary. 

Babe. Are you kidding me? 

Buddy. No, we’re not kidding you—Madame 
Benoit is in there trying to cook the dinner and 
spending most of her —(Babe goes up behind well 
and looks off into house) —time crying—Marie and 
Babette ain’t crackin’ a smile any more—Julie ain’t 
on the job and this gink Pettibois is actin’ as though 


BUDDIES 


79 

he owned eight divisions of the American Army! 
And it’s all your fault. 

Babe. My fault ? 

Buddy. That’s what I said. Didn’t you' go and 
toss Julie in the discard for this Brooklyn Jane? 

Babe. . Of course I didn’t. 

Buddy. Well, I’ve been using my nut, see— 
I’m trying to figure it out. Julie’s stuck on you— 
I don’t know why when they’s handsome men 
around like me and Abie—but she is—and then 
when she sees you flirting with* Flatbush— 

Babe. What ? 

Buddy. You hear me! And when she’s wise to 
you she’s for marrying that human egg plant. I 
just put two and two together—that’s all. 

Babe. Well, you haven’t added it up correctly 
—I don’t know what Julie’s motive is for marry¬ 
ing Pettibois—God knows I don’t want her to— 
I’m heartsick over it. 

Buddy. Heartsick—ha, don’t make me use this 
laugh—I’m saving it—Heartsick—and you engaged 
and out there in the fields picking orange blossoms 
with Columbia Heights and discussin’ which is the 
safest street in Brooklyn to run a baby carriage 
on—Huh-—- (Exits into barn.) 

.Abie. (Interrupting) And what is more — 

Babe. Oh, shut up. (Chases Abie off into barn.) 

Louise. (Entering from left 1 st) Are you go¬ 
ing to let me stand out there in the road all alone ? 

Babe. Louise—listen—something terrible has 
happened—Julie has thrown Sonny over and she’s 
going to marry Pettibois. (Pause) Did.you hear 
what I said? 

Louise. Yes. 

Babe. Well, aren’t you going to laugh or cry or 
something ? 

Louise. I don’t see anything to laugh or cry 
about. 


8o 


BUDDIES 


Babe. Have you ever seen Pettibois? 

Louise. Yes. 

Babe. Can you imagine a dear, sweet girl like 
Julie marrying an awful thing like that? 

Louise. (Coldly) That’s her own affair. She 
seems to be somewhat uncertain. 

Babe. It’s too deep for me—I can’t figure it out. 
I wonder how Sonny feels now? 

Louise. (Sits on bench l.) Don’t expect me 
to answer—it might sound vindictive. 

Babe. Still I’d' like you to say something. 

Louise. When a woman is jilted by a man and 
that man in turn is jilted by another woman that 
would seem to even matters, wouldn’t it? 

Babe. I guess so—I never studied Ibsen. 

Louise. A man can’t be engaged to two girls at 
the same time, can he? 

Babe. He can if he’s a glutton for punishment. 

Louise. Well, please don’t discuss the matter. 

Babe. (Crossing to Louise) Are we—are we 
engaged ? 

Louise. Do your friends know that we are en¬ 
gaged? 

Babe. Yes, everybody knows it. 

Louise. Who told them? 

Babe. I did—you told me to tell everybody, 
didn’t you? 

Louise. Possibly—I did—I’ve forgotten. 

Babe. Well, are we engaged? (Sits on bench 
zvith Louise.) 

Louise’. Certainly we’re engaged! Because a 
certain young man was jilted by a certain young 
lady is no reason why we should make fools of our¬ 
selves—at present. We’ll go through with it—unless 
you want to make a public speech yourself. 

Babe. No, Darling I- 

Louise. Never mind the darling I. 



BUDDIES 


81 


Babe. Is it your idea that we be engaged perma¬ 
nently—or do we marry eventually? 

Louise. Why cross the bridge before we come 
to it? 

Babe. Quite true. But in the event of mar¬ 
riage I wouldn’t want to live in Brooklyn. 

Louise. And I wouldn’t live in Alleghany. 

Babe. Suppose we compromise on mid-distance. 
Shall we say Harper’s Ferry? 

Louise. You’ve already said too much. 

Babe. (Taking her hand) I’m sorry, Louise. 

Louise. What are you sorry for? 

Babe. For the same two hulks tossing, tossing. 

Louise. You needn’t be sorry for me—and I’m 
not a hulk. 

Babe. What are you going to say to Sonny ? 

Louise. Nothing—I’ll try to avoid him till train 
time. I shan’t have much trouble—he is carefully 
keeping out of sight. 

Babe. What’ll I say to him ? 

Louise. I don’t think ydu’ll be at a loss with 
your quaint ideas on publicity! Tell him we adore 
each other fervently—that our happiness is quite be¬ 
yond the comprehension of the average mortal and 
I wish you’d let go my hand, please. 

Babe. (Dropping her hand quickly) Assuredly, 
dearest! 

Louise. Tell him that my heart just throbs and 
throbs for you and you alone and you don’t have to 
sit so close to me, do you ? 

Babe. (Moving over quickly) No. No. 

Louise. And tell him that we have found the 
secret of perfect companionship, and will you please 
run down to the depot and find out the very first 
train leaving for Paris- 

(Babe rises slowly and starts up stage—turns and 
looks at Lou\$e.) 




82 


BUDDIES 


Babe. Speaking as one engaged — certainly, my 
beloved angel face! 

Louise. Oh, hurry! (Exit Babe hurriedly c. 
to R.) 

(Enter Julie from the house — Louise seeing her 
is about to follow Babe off at left — Julie speaks 
to her.) 

Julie. (Standing in door) Miss Brookline. Could 
you spare me two or three minutes, please? 

Louise. (Very stiffly) You wish to speak to me, 
ma’moiselle ? 

Julie! (Coming down to well) Through the 
window I have seen you make long talk to M’sieu 
Babe. Oh! it is wonderful to see how he sit there 
so quiet with you. 

Louise. I’m afraid I don’t understand you. 

Julie. For many times I have wish to make 
quiet conversation with M’sieu Babe, but for every 
time I say no more than just “Bon jour, mon enfant” 
— he is get red in the face, and choky in the throat, 
and he run away like a rabbit is frightened by some¬ 
thing. You are not like me call your engagement 
husband a rabbit? 

Louise. You may call him anything you wish. 

Julie. You are angry with me. In your face I 
see this. You think Julie is a very bad wicked girl, 
oui? I know this. 

Louise. (Stiffly) I haven’t given the matter 
much thought. 

Julie. Will you sit down please, Miss Brookline? 
(They sit together on bench at well) When you 
are a little girl you like for hear fairy stories? 

Louise. Yes, everybody likes fairy stories. 

(Song Cue: cc Fairy Tales”— Julie. Music 

Cue — See No. 10 of Score.) 


BUDDIES 83 

(After the song they are seated on bench at well.) 

Julie. I tell you my fairy story. Once upon a 
time there is a little poor girl and she is dream a 
wonderful dream that some day Prince Charming 
is come to her and he is say “I like you, little poor 
girl. Would you take off those sabots and try on 
these crystal slippers, if you please.” But this is 
only dream she is have—and then is come a terrible 
war and fine soldiers are come to the home of the 
little poor girl and there among them she finds her 
Prince Charming. Oh, the world is happy, and 
then is come the wicked ogre and he is say cruel 
words about the brother of the little poor girl—who 
is die a hero on the battlefield—and the wicked ogre 
is prove these cruel words are true and the heart of 
the little poor girl will break if the world know this 
about her brother—but she has no way to turn for 
help because Prince Charming is not yet ready to 
say “Take off the sabot and put on the crystal slip¬ 
per.” What she do? There is another Prince, 
Prince Kindness, and he is good friend and is put 
the arm around the little poor girl for protector 
from the wicked ogre, but everybody is misunder¬ 
stand this, and the Princess is come here, too—she 
is misunderstand it most of all—and her heart is 
grow cold like ashes. And when the poor little girl 
is see what her selfishness is do, her heart is ache 
for shame and she is go to the wicked ogre and 
she is say, “If you say to nobody this cruel thing 
about my brother, I marry you.” And then, the 
wicked ogre say, “Marry me and I say nothing,” 
and so—we come to the place where the rest of 
the story is not made up—but it will be easy to read 
because it will be written in the heart’s blood of the 
little poor girl. (She breaks down and cries.) 

(Stop Music.) 


8'4 


BUDDIES 


Louise. (Comforting her) Oh, please, please. 
Don’t cry, please. I am utterly ashamed of myself. 
I should have had more faith in Sonny. But can’t 
something be done to save the little poor girl from 
the wicked ogre ? 

(Alphonse enters c. from r.) 

Alphonse. Julie. 

(Louise and Julie rise quickly.) 

Julie. You are call me? 

Alphonse. (Coming down c.) Yes—I call you 
— I want to speak to you alone — this lady will ex¬ 
cuse you, please. 

Louise. (To Julie) And in the story the Prin¬ 
cess was near at hand praying for the little poor girl. 

Julie. (To Louise) And the little poor girl 
never forgot. (Louise kisses Julie and exits at 
left.) 

Alphonse. So, you have fine friend for talk 
secrets to — oh — il n’rien — I have just been for the 
notary — as soon as he is here we sign the marriage 
contract - 

(Julie goes up centre as if to get away from the 
subject of marriage.) 

(Madame Benoit appears in the doorway from 
house.) 

Mme. Benoit. (Coming down left of well) Oh, 
you don’t mean this ? 

Alphonse. ( Crossing to Madame Benoit) Why 
I don’t mean it? 

Mme. Benoit. You must give us time. 

Alphonse. Time — No. The marriage contract 
must be signed tonight or by God I go and tell all 



BUDDIES 85 

these soldiers she is so proud of that her brother 
is a damn- 

Mme. Benoit. (Sharply) M’sieu! 

Julie. (Coming down to Alphonse) (Quietly, 
sweetly) What is all the matter? Did somebody 
hear Julie say she is not ready for marry the hand¬ 
some Pettibois ? (She goes to him coquettishly) 

Ah, my Pettibois is jealous, not so? He have the 
nature like the roaring lion because he thinks his 
Julie is make the eyes at some other man—Oh! is 
too bad. (Pinches his cheek) Cherie, Pettibois! 
is too bad! We are sign the marriage contract to¬ 
night—here—in the moonlight—Is nice idea—what 
you call romantic—yes—Pettibois? (Stands by his 
side—Pinches his cheek) You are smiling now, 
Pettibois—is good—I like for see. you smile. Now 
you are go get ready for the wedding. You are 
brush the clothes—find the clean collar—fix the 
pretty necktie—you are wash the face and comb the 
hair—and then you are handsome gentleman to stand 
with Julie in the moonlight. (Pinches his cheek) 
Not so, cherie? 

Alphonse. (Very amiable now) Oh, oui—oui 

—ma petite—Give me one sweet, little kiss now- 

(Tries to embrace her.) 

Julie. (Getting away) Oh, Pettibois! For the 
bride to kiss the groom one hour before the wed¬ 
ding—Oh, this is very bad luck! 

Alphonse. Bad luck? 

Julie. You don’t know this, Pettibois! 

Alphonse. No, no! Bon—I am gentleman—I 
go for wash the face, for comb the hair, for put the 
sweet perfume on the handkerchief—then I meet 
you and we sign the marriage contract in the moon¬ 
light—you see-—you see—what fine gentleman I am. 
(Going to house) A tout a l’heure, mom amour, 
mon bebe mon treaso’re, ma cocotte eu sucre. Mon 





86 


BUDDIES 


Dieu, quelle beaute divine. (Alphonse exits into 
the house r.2.) 

Julie. (When the door closes — intensely) 
(Crossing down right) Canaille! Beast! Some¬ 
where in hell there is a hot fire blazing for this gentle¬ 
man—I know this. 

Mme. Benoit, (x. to center) (Taking Julie 
in her arms, tearfully) Oh, Julie, Julie, your moth¬ 
er’s heart is breaking. 

Julie. (Music Cue — See No. 12 of score) Please, 
Maman, wait! You wear over your heart the Croix 
de Guerre! My brother Pierre is get this because 
he is brave—And Julie must be brave, too. You 
see, Maman, I am all right—is nothing. I go now 
and put on Pierre’s uniform for the last time. What¬ 
ever is the mistake my brother is make he will not 
fail to come to me in this hour and teach me how 
to be brave. (Exit Julie into house.) 

(Enter Marie and Babette from c.) (As they 
enter, both speak.) 

Marie—Babette. Maman, Maman. 

Marie. Oh, Maman, vous pleurez—S’il vous 
plait — dites nous q’est ce qu’il y a? 

Mme. Benoit. II n’y a rien, ma fille, rien du 
tout. 

Babette. Toujour Maman, vous dites qu’il n’y 
a rien, mais il doit y avoir quelque chose de terrible 
puis que toujour vous pleurer. 

Mme. Benoit. Venez dans la maison, mes en- 
fants, je vous d'irait tant que possible — que Dieu 
nous aide. (They exit into house.) 

(Buddy, Johnny, enter from barn arguing.) 

Johnny. Just what was your idea, Buddy. I 
didn’t quite get it. 

Buddy. My idea was for a few of us to coax 


BUDDIES 


87 


Pettibois over there in that large field and then come 
back whistling and pretending we don’t know what 
happened to him. 

(Enter Sonny c. from l.) 

Johnny. Find out anything, Sonny? (The Boys 
crowd around him.) 

Sonny. (c.) Not a thing. Nobody in the 
village ever heard of Pettibois. I’ve been going 
from house to house for an hour. The station agent 
saw him get off the train and that’s all anybody seems 
to know about him. But listen, boys, this much I 
did find out—the notary is coming up here in half 
an hour to witness the signing of the marriage con¬ 
tract. 

Johnny. (Quietly) My God! We must stop 
this. 

Buddy. We can’t let this go through—we must 
do something. 

Johnny. How about kidnappin’ that notary? 

'Sonny. No, Johnny, that won’t do a bit of good. 
We’ve got to get the goods on him. He’s a crook 
and I’ll bet my life on it. 

Buddy. Sure he’s a crook— I got that the first 
time I lamped him. 

Johnny. There must be something terribly 
wrong when Julie will marry a guy like that. I 
think maybe it has to do with her father—you see 
Pettibois has something on her dad and he’s passed 
over and these French girls are powerful keen and 
proud about the honor of their dead. 

Sonny. There’s something in that. Did you find 
out anything from Madame Benoit? 

Johnny. No; she’s mighty proud herself—none 
of us had the nerve to say anything to her, but— 
Let’s talk it over—maybe somebody will get an idea. 
Come on. (Johnny and Buddy go chattering off c. 


88 


BUDDIES 


to l.) (Babe enters c. from r.) (They growl at 
Babe as they exit.) 

Sonny. (Forlornly) Hello! 

Babe. (Same tone) Hello! (Sits on bench at 
well.) 

Sonny. (Sitting with him) I suppose you heard 
about Julie and Pettibois? 

Babe. Yes, I heard about it. (Head in his 
hands.) 

Sonny. Awful, isn’t it? 

Babe. Terrible. 

Sonny. Are you going to let that loafer marry 
Julie? 

Babe. How can I stop him? 

Sonny. Where’s Louise? <■- 

Babe. I don’t know — I haven’t seen her lately. 

Sonny. Are you still engaged? 

Babe. ( Same position as before ) My God, yes !! 

Sonny. Now listen, old man, you don’t mean to 
go through with this, do you? 

Babe. What can I do? I’m only a hulk. 

Sonny. A what? 

Babe. A hulk — tossing, tossing! 

Sonny. I don’t get you. 

Babe. Nobody does. 

Sonny. But you will break off your engagement, 
won’t you, Babe? 

Babe. I can’t. I’m in the hands of a proud and 
haughty woman. 

Sonny. You could quarrel with her, couldn’t 
you ? 

Babe. I have — but she smiled at me and I apolo¬ 
gized. She has the most domineering personality, 
that girl. Why, she even forced me to agree to live 
in Brooklyn. 

Sonny. Cut that out. 

Babe. If there’s anything I’d be willing to cut 
out — it’s living in Brooklyn. 


BUDDIES 89 

Sonny. You know I wasn’t actually engaged to 
Julie. 

Babe. I know it now—but I didn’t know it when 
I discussed living with the queen of your dreams in 
a bungalow on Pineapple Street. 

Sonny. Julie needed some man to protect her 
and I volunteered because every time she smiled in 
your direction you crumpled up and acted like eight 
cents worth of God help us. 

Babe. I know. I’m not human. To that girl 
I’ve been nothing more than a yard and three- 
quarters of poison ivy. 

Sonny. (Taking his hand and holding it) No, 

Babe, you’re not as bad as. that - Say—didn’t 

Louise say anything about me at all? Didn’t she 
send any message? 

Babe. Yes, she said to tell you that we adore 
each other fervently—that our happiness is quite be¬ 
yond the comprehension of the average mortal and 
I wish you’d let go my hand, please. 

Sonny. (Dropping his hand) (Quietly) What? 

Babe. She said to tell you that her heart just 
throbs and throbs for me alone and you don’t have 
to sit so close to me, do you? 

Sonny. (Moving over quickly — a hit angry) 
No, of course not. Say, what the- 

Babe. She told me to tell you that we have found 
the secret of perfect companionship and Sonny, for 
the love of Heaven, can’t you think of some way 
to save Julie? I tell you I won’t want to live if 
she marries that scoundrel. I’d strangle him with 
my own hands if I thought it would do any good. 

(Enter Alphonse from the house — lie is very 
much “spruced-up " and very smirky and sure of 
himself.) 




90 


BUDDIES 


Sonny. Eve thought of that a dozen times. 

Alphonse. (Comes dawn, left of well) Ah, 
gentlemen, bon soir, it is a fine evening—n’est ce pas 
—I am glad to have invited you all—The Notary will 
be here in a few minutes and we sign the marriage 
contract. Oh—I like so much the American soldiers. 

(Abie and Rube enter from barn.) (Enter 
Johnny: Buddy from l.1.) 

Sonny. (In front of well) You haven’t given 
us much time to bring presents. 

Johnny, (l.) I’m bringing some nice fresh tar 
for the groom. 

Alphonse. Tar! I don’t know this. 

Buddy. And I’m furnishing the feathers! 

Abie. I’m giving it to the groom with my compli¬ 
ments, understand me, a cheap second-hand electric 
chair. 

Alphonse. (To Abie, dignified) Is not wanted 
for guests to bring presents. 

Johnny. I claim an old geezer like you ain’t got 
no license to marry a young girl like Julie. 

Alphonse. (Bristling) Me old, huh ! 

Rube. (Over center) Excuse me, mister, but 
outside of gettin’ married, what is your regular busi¬ 
ness ? 

Alphonse. (Down l.) Business—I am a rest- 
auranteur. 

Buddy, (l. of Alphonse.) He admits he’s a 
crook. 

Alppionse. Oui, I am a cook—for two years I 
was Chef at the Cafe Henri. 

Buddy. That’s the joint where I lost my over¬ 
coat. 

Sonny. Well, if you are all these important 
things what are you doing here? 


BUDDIES 


9i 


(Abie and Rube move up stage to doorstep.) 

Alphonse. Is my business to be here — and some¬ 
times other places — I am very much cosmopolitan — 

Sonny. (Close to AlphonseJ (Johnny places 
bench at left up in its proper place) Why do you 
force this girl to a promise of marriage? 

(Abie and Rube stop on step and look back to 
Sonny and Alphonse.) 

Alphonse. Me force — No — no — is not my idea. 
If we are in a hurry, it is just because Julie wish to 
do this. 

Sonny. You’re a liar. 

Alphonse. You are not tell me this if we are 
alone. 

(The other Boys are at this moment in such posi¬ 
tions near the various exits that they can step in¬ 
stantly off the scene—they disappear quickly at 
right and left—just a step and they are gone.) 

(Johnny and Buddy off l.U£. Abie and Rube 
into house. Babe gets behind well.) 

Sonny. I repeat it—you’re a liar. 

Alphonse. (Looks around—sees they are alone) 
I have no wish to quarrel with you. 

Sonny. Come on, put up your hands. 

Alphonse. My hands are all right—I like them 
this way. (The Boys come into the scene again — 
standing as they were before.) 

Sonny. You’re not worth talking to. You big 
stiff- 


(Enter Biff and stands up centre in roadway.) 



92 


BUDDIES 


Buddy. Let’s duck him in the well. (The Boys 
in an angry mood agree and start to make a rush for 
Alphonse.) 

Biff. (Sharply) Steady there! (Coming down 
centre) (The Boys stop instantly) Fall back— 

Sonny- (Beckons Sonny to come to him) (As 

Sonny crosses to Biff) Listen—I’ve got this guy 
now! 

Sonny. Have you? Good! 

Biff. Sure! (Looking quietly at Alphonse) 
I never forget faces! (xes to Alphonse.) 

Alphonse. Alphonse Pettibois — everyone is 
know this. 

Biff. I’m sure a dummy about names. Alphonse 
Pettibois! About five years ago you ran a restau¬ 
rant in New York on West 44 th Street, near the 
Lambs Club, didn’t you ? 

Alphonse. Oui! I am well known man in New 
Y o rk—e ve r y whe r e. 

Biff. I’m on. Do you recall me?—Richard Cal¬ 
lahan is my name—Biff they call me for short. 

Alphonse. Is hard to remember—I see so many 
soldiers. 

Biff. I wasn’t a soldier then—I was a Central 
Office man—and—I was called in on a case you had 
—remember! 

Alphonse. Oui, I think I remember this. 

Biff. A boy in your restaurant stole some money 
—you wanted to put him in jail right away, but I 
prevailed on you to write first to his father here in 
France and try to get the money back that way. 

Alphonse. Oh, oui—I remember—oui. 

Biff. You made it pretty hot for that kid for a 
couple of months and then you discovered it was 
your own nephew that stole the money—Say—did 
you ever square that boy with his folks? 

Alphonse. Oh, oui—certainly—that was all ar¬ 
range. 



BUDDIES 


93 


Biff. (To Alphonse) Glad to hear it— (To 
Sonny, crossing to Sonny at right) He was a clean 
cut, fine looking kid, and I knew the minute 1 
looked at him he wasn’t the kind that would steal 
money from anybody. And him among strangers 
and not able to speak a word of English, gee! It 
was a tough deal—now what was that boy’s name? 

Alphonse. Boy’s name—It is pass away from 
my mind—such a small matter—is make no diff¬ 
erence. 

(Enter Julie through centre in her brother’s uni¬ 
form—she is out of breath as though she had been 
running for some distance.) 

(Music Cue: See No. 13 of score—continues to 
curtain.) 

Julie. (Coming to centre) Is somebody here 
calling me? (warn.) 

Biff. (r.c. Looking at Julie in Pierre’s uni¬ 
form) Why, that’s the boy- 

(Mme. Benoit and Marie and Babette enter 
from house and remain at door until curtain.) 

Alphonse, (r.c. Hurriedly) No, no, Julie, no¬ 
body call you—— 

. Julie. (Ignoring Alphonse) I say is some¬ 
body call me? 

Sonny. (Over r.) Nobody called you, Julie— 
what makes you think that? 

Julie. I was walking alone in the fields— no¬ 
body is hear me at all—suddenly is come to my ear 
a voice and it say, “Hurry back to the courtyard, 
Julie, hurry—they want you!” And I have run here 
all the way. 

Alphonse. Nobody wants you, Julie—is time to 
put on the dress. 




94 


BUDDIES 


Biff. (To Alphonse) Wait a minute. (To 
Julie) Have you a brother? 

Julie. (Frightened) Oui —twin brother is dead. 

Biff. Dead ? 

Julie. Oui — He die a hero on the battlefield. 

Biff. What was his name? 

Julie. (Still very frightened) Pierre. 

Biff. Pierre — Pierre Benoit—-that’s it— (To Al¬ 
phonse) Isn’t that the name?-^Come on — speak 
up, Pettibois. 

Julie. ( Overcome with fear that Alphonse will, 
tell about her brother, she crosses to Alphonse and 
kneels) No, no, no—please—do not tell them—-will 
break my mother’s heart if you tell them this— I am 
marry you now, oh, M’sieu, please, please. 

Sonny. (Intensely, crossing to pick Julie up 
from her knees) God, Sergeant—don’t you see— 
don’t you understand? 

(Alphonse attempts to get away to left but 
Johnny stops him.) 

Biff. (Crossing to Alphonse) (Speaks to 
Sonny as he crosses) Sure, Sonny, I’m on. (To 
Alphonse) You dirty, white-livered dog, you 
never squared that boy with his folks—did you? 
Well, go on now—tell her—tell her— (He throws 
Alphonse across in front of well to Julie.) 

Alphonse. (To Julie) Oui, I want to tell you 
it is all a mistake I make about this—Pierre is not 
do what I think he do—Please forgive me. 

Julie. Pierre—you are what Julie always think 
you are. ( She kneels with her arms extended as in 
prayer of thankfulness.) 

Biff. Boys — take him down to the village and 
don’t hurt him—much. (He throws Alphonse 
across to the Boys at left who lay hold of him and 
drag him off left first.) 


BUDDIES 


95 


CURTAIN FALLS. 

ist Curtain: Biff stands over left. Julie kneel¬ 
ing at centre with Babe and Sonny at either 
side of her. Mme. Benoit with Babette and 
Marie at either side of her stand just left off 
centre. 

2nd Curtain: Everyone on for the call. 

3rd Curtain and All Succeeding Curtains: 
Babe, Sonny, Julie. 



“BUDDIES” 


ACT III. 

Scene: The interior of the barn. 

On Stage: Plenty of straw in loft. Eight mat¬ 
tresses and blankets. One three foot bench 
over left. Tzvo stools. Mess kits on steps at 
right. Pencil and paper for Rube. 

Off Stage: Wild flowers for Babe. Silver slip¬ 
pers, wrapped in brown paper, for Julie. 

Description : The lower floor of a somezvhat old 
and primitive looking barn. Above is the hay 
loft zvith a rough ladder leading thereto. 
There is a glassless opening on left side and 
two in the back which serve as windows—the 
same size as are seen from the exterior of the 
barn, in the barn in the previous scenes. In 
the extreme background may be seen tzuo cozv 
stalls — unoccupied. There are several straw 
mattresses and blankets to be spread out later 
for the boys to sleep on. The open barn door 
leading into the courtyard is at left—about 
two and a half. A smaller door opposite at 
right two and a half. Two or three wooden 
benches are scattered about dozim stage at 
right and left. There is a large, old-fashioned, 
French oil lamp over the door which, aided by 
the moon, supplies the light in the barn. 

96 


k 


BUDDIES 


97 


Time: A half hour later that night. 

Discovered: All the Boys except Babe sitting 
[in barn ] around. At rise : Rube is sitting on 

floor up l. writing letter—using stool for 
desk. Buddy—Orderly—Johnny sitting on 
steps r. Abie sitting up c. 

Sonny stands disconsolate looking out window 
at left. 

At rise Quartette sing—See No. 15 of score. 

Buddy. (After song — at l. — to Abie) Sonny 
sure did get the worst of it, didn’t he? 

Abie. To the world, I exclaim he did. 

Buddy. It was a rough deal alright. 

Abie. Here is a boy, understand me, engaged 
for marriage with a pretty girl and because he is 
for helping someone else out of trouble—chesto— 
he loses the girl and now she’s with his best friend 
down in the village trying to learn a French priest 
how to marry them in 1 Presbyterian. 

Buddy. Gee—I hope Babe and Flatbush don’t 
get married or nothing—it sure would put a crimp 
in old Sonny. ' 

Abie. A crimp—it would be a permanent wave 
—it wouldn’t surprise me none if Sonny went to 
Russia and joined out with the Bullshivicki. Say, 
Sonny, what do you suppose the sergeant had to 
rush down 1 to headquarters in such a hurry for? 

Sonny. I don’t know. (Sonny leaves window 
and goes and sits on bench l.) 

Abie. I was talking it over with the boys and 
we was thinking perhaps, our regiment is ordered 
up to one of them there German bridge heads, and 
we ain’t just craving the job. 

Sonny. What difference does it make where 


0 


9 8 


BUDDIES 


we are sent. Russia—Germany or Jersey City— 
it’s all the same to me. 

Abie. You sure lost some of your spirits—you 
look awful depressed—and you didn’t eat any 
dinner. 

Sonny. Didn’t I ? I don’t remember. 

(Enter, Julie from l.) 

Julie. Ah Mes Braves:—I speak to Sonny— 
(She goes to Sonny.) Sonny. You are see Miss 
Brookline? 

Sonny. (Rising) No. 

Julie. Bebe? 

Sonny. No. 

Julie. What are you think? 

Sonny. I think the worst. 

Julie. Then is alright—because what you don’t 
think is what always goes to happen. Not so? 

Sonny. Now wouldn’t it be a fine proposition 1 , 
I ask you, Julie, wouldn’t it be a fine proposition— 
if just for spite—those two had gone off and got 
married? 

Julie. Oh, no—no—is impossible. 

Sonny. It isn’t impossible, Julie. Louise is a 
Brooklyn girl—and Julie, let me tell you some¬ 
thing—Brooklyn people are terribly impulsive. 

Julie. But Bebe is from Pittsburgh—perhaps 
he’s not so quick. 

Sonny. Meaning you have more faith in Babe 
than I have in Louise. 

Julie. I have all the faith in the world in Bebe. 

Sonny. And I have all the faith in the world 
in Louise, but I’m worried just the same. 

(Biff enters from right. All the Boys crowd 
around him with questions, ad lib) 


BUDDIES 


99 

Omnes. What’s the news, Biff? Tell us about 
it, etc., etc. 

Biff. (Coming to c.) Listen, everybody. 
Tomorrow we entrain for Bordeaux and home. 

(General jollification — cheers — etc., etc. At the 
conclusion of the excitement Julie speaks, Rube 
exits at l. and then xes behind flat from l. to r.) 

Julie. (c.) Ah, mes Braves— I suppose I 
should be sad for myself but I am glad for you, 
because that is the most wonderful word I learn 
in the whole English language—Home! 

(Song Cue: “Hello Home” — Julie and Bud¬ 
dies.) 

(After song Julie and Sonny exit left—See 
No. 16 in score.) 

Biff. (Who has been sitting over right during 
song comes down c.) Now you fellers get a line 
on all your divds and don’t forget we have a three 
mile hike to the station. 

(Enter Madame Benoit and Marie and Babette 
from left.) 

Mme. Benoit. (Going to Biff at c.) Ah—Mes 
enfant—mes en'fant—I hear the wonderful news— 

. you are go home tomorrow—It is make me happy 
i for you and sad for us—and tonight, I thank you 
from the heart for what you boys do this day for 
save me and my little family from terrible sorrow. 

Biff. Oh, that’s alright — Madame Benoit, that 
loafer won’t ever bother you again—and we are 
mighty proud we were able to help you. 

Mme. Benoit. Oh, it is wonderful, wonderful. 


too 


BUDDIES 


(To Marie and Babette.) Marie, Babette, tell 
them what a surprise I have for them in the morn¬ 
ing. (To the Girls.) Marie—Babette: Dit’s aux 
soldats la surprise que j’ai pour eux demain matin. 

Marie. My mother has such a wonderful sur¬ 
prise for you at breakfast. (Oui — Attendee . Maman 
a une surprise merviellieus pour vous demain 
matin.) 

Babette. Yes, she would have surprised you 
before but she only learned how to make it this 
morning. (Oui—elle vous Vaurait faite plus tot 
mais elle riy a pense’ que ce matin.) 

Buddy. Gee. I wish I had my dictionary—but 
I suppose you’re saying goodnight. 

Mme. Benoit. (Laughing) Oh, no— :pas bon 
nuit—no—no—they are tell you I have wonderful 
surprise for the last breakfast—you are have with 
us. I have make for you what all Americans love 
so much—deep dishes apple pie. 

(This announcement is greeted with loud cries 
of joy. All pick up the chorus of “Hello Home” 
and march off left, led by the two children, Mme. 
Benoit and Biff bringing up the rear. As they 
reach the door Mme. Benoit exits and Biff turns 
to speak to Louise and Babe, who eyiter from right. 
Babe is very forlorn at the prospect of going home.) 

Biff. Heard the news—Babe—we entrain to¬ 
morrow for Bordeaux and home. Oh, come on 
in and have a piece of pie. (Exit Biff at left.) 

Babe. Home! (xing to left.) 

Louise. Well, isn’t that wonderful news. 

Babe. Yes—in a manner of speaking—oh, yes, 
it’s jolly good news. (They sit at left.) 

Louise. We’ll probably reach home at about the 
same time. 


BUDDIES 


IOI 


Babe. To resume, of course, our delightful pas¬ 
time of being devoted lovers. 

Louise. Will you please stop making me feel 
utterly miserable? 

Babe. What do you want me to do? 

Louise. (Tearfully) I don’t care what you do! 
It will be my train time in half an hour and I haven’t 
spoken ten words to Sonny. 

Babe. Ever since Pettibois was thrown out— 
Sonny and Julie have done nothing but dance to¬ 
gether and rejoice together. 

Louise. Well, why shouldn’t they? They both 
think we are still engaged, 

Babe. (Eagerly) Well, aren’t we? 

Louise. We are to the world—but not privately. 

Babe. This is a fine situation—in order to con¬ 
ceal from Sonny, the fact that we have made a 
bonehead play, we must go through life bitterly 
engaged to each other, and at the joyous Christmas 
season send each other lovely presents of prussic 
acid and strychnine—and— 

Louise. (Sharply) Babe. 

Babe. Yes, Darling I— 

Louise. Never mind the “Darling I”— 

Babe. Hulks, we are tossing, tossing— 

Louise. You may be a hulk if you want to, but 
I’m not. 

Babe. That’s it— we are nothing in common at 
all, nothing—not even a hulk. 

Louise. The idea of my ever daring to engage 
myself to anybody but Sonny. 

Babe. Oh, the heavenly light in Julie’s face when 
she found out the truth about Pettibois. 

Louise. A man, Sonny is. A real, fine, noble 
gentleman. 

Babe. An angel come down to earth—that girl. 


102 


BUDDIES 


(Enter Sonny and Julie from left —Julie has 
on her sabots.) 

Julie. Ah! You are here! We have look for 
you! I sit down with you, Miss Brookline. Sonny, 
you here too, bring the stool. (Julie sits with 
Louise on bench l. Babe sits bashfully next to 
Louise.) You know why I do this?—Is because 
there is little fairy story—we must finish—Sonnay, 
you are. like fairy stories? 

Sonny. You bet I do. 

Julie. Bebe, you are like fairy story? 

Babe. (Nervously) Oh—well—It’s a long time 
since— 

Louise. (Sharply) Do you like fairy stories? 

Babe. (Quickly) Of course I do. 

Julie. (See Cue No. 17 of Score.) You are 
tell this with me, Miss Brookline—because we are 
make this fairy story together—it not matter if the 
boys don’t know how the story begin—Well, one 
day the Brave Knights are riding through the for¬ 
est and they are suddenly come upon the wicked 
ogre and they beat him and beat him and he scream 
and run away for his life and he never come back 
any more and the heart of the little poor girl is 
jump for the joy because her brother can sleep 
his long sleep in peace and glory—but the little 
poor girl is not all happy because her friend the 
Princess has very sad eyes— 

Louise. (Taking the story up goes on without 
break.) and the Princess was sore distressed be¬ 
cause her faith in the Prince Kindness was so 
trifling that in a moment of pique and disappoint¬ 
ment she engaged to marry the Prince Charming 
and when she- realized how selfish she had been— 

Julie. (Taking up .the story quickly) The 
Princess is too proud to acknowledge her mistake 


BUDDIES 


103 


and for a time is look as if four loving hearts are 
suffer, and then 1 the Princess is suddenly realize 
that pride is nothing and that love is everything and 
she is stand up. (Julie nudges Louise, who stands 
up.) And she is walk away with all the love come 
back in her heart—and— (Louise walks to steps — 
over r.) She sit down over there. (Louise sits 
on steps at r.) She is look around and wait 
for the Prince Kindness—and suddenly the Prince 
Kindness is feel that the Princess wants him. (She 
nudges Sonny) And he is arise! (Sonny gets up.) 
And he is walk over to her— (Sonny goes to Louise 
and sits with her on steps.) And he is sit with her 
and he is look deep into her eyes and she is smile 
at him. (Julie turns to Babe.) And then the 
little poor girl is turn' to the Prince Charming and 
is smile at him and she is say “Is quiet nice corner 
in the courtyard where the moonlight is fall down 
and make the ground look like is all cover with 
wild-flowers, and—” 

Babe. (Interrupting nervously) I know—you 
—you like wild flowers—Certainly—I know where 
to find some—it’s only about half a mile—I’ll get 
you a whole bunch—excuse me. (Rises — runs off 
as hard as he can through door at r.) 

Julie. (Rising, despairingly) Oh, is no use! 
M’sieu Bebe is never understand fairy stories. 

Sonny. I’ll watch for him, Julie, and when he 
comes back with those wild flowers—I’ll talk to 
him. 

Louise. Do you think he’ll bring them? 

Julie. No, 1 doin'’t think he’ll bring them, but 
I wish to thank him for the noble idea of looking 
for them in the dark— 

(Stop Music.) 

(Exit Julie at left.) 


104 


BUDDIES 


Louise. (Sitting on steps r.) Sonny, ask me 
to forgive you? 

Sonny. (Sitting with Louise— on steps right) 
Will you forgive me, dear? 

Louise. Yes, with all my heart. And 1 now ask 
me why did I ask you to ask me to forgive you ? 

Sonny. Why did you ask me to ask you to for¬ 
give me? 

Louise. Because I’ve been ashamed of myself 
for ever doubting you—you’ve been wonderful, 
Sonny, just wonderful. 

Sonny. And we’re still engaged? 

Louise. (Kisses him) What do you think? 

Sonny. Well, I’m not quite sure. (Kisses her.) 
Now I think we are. 

Louise. And Sonny, when we get back home— 

Sonny. And get married. 

Louise. You know — 

Sonny. Just a minute, are you particularly keen 
about living in Brooklyn, when we get married? 

Louise. Well, you know I come from Brooklyn. 

Sonny. Yes, I know — just as often as vou can. 

(Song Cue: See No. iS in Score.) 

(They exit right after song.) 

(Babe enters from r. looking for Julie —he car¬ 
ries a few scraggly flowers. When he hears Julie 
approaching he runs behind door opjer l.) 

(Julie enters from l. humming—she carries a 
small package containing the silver slippers. She 
looks about and then sits on bench l. Babe comes 
from behind door and approaches Julie nervously.) 

Babe. Hullo. 

Julie. (Jumping up) Oh, M’sieu Babe, you 
frighten me— 

Babe. Here’s some wild flowers — ( Gives them 
to her.) 


BUDDIES 


105 

Julie. Oh, how lovely. Thank you, M’sieu 
Bebe. 

Babe. I had a whole bunch of them at first, but 
when I got in the light they turned out to be vege¬ 
tables. 

Julie. Oh, is wonderful—you are sit down, 
please. (He sits bashfully—on bench l.) You 
go home tomorrow? 

Babe. Yes, I believe we do. 

Julie. You are not happy about this? 

Babe. Oh, yes. It will be fine to get home again 
to Alleghany. 

Julie. Is this where you live—Alleghany? 

Babe. Yes. 

Julie. Is near Arizona—Rube he is tell me 
about Arizona— 

Babe. No, Alleghany is in Pittsburgh. 

Julie. You have big house in Alleghany? 

Babe. Yes—seven—we have seven acres—and 
the house sets back from the road—and there’s a 
line of poplars leading up to the house and there’s 
a porch all the way around and we have—we have 
five baths an'd my aunt Euphemia lives with us. 

Julie. Is nice — tell me more. 

Babe. And you can sit on the porch and see the 
sun set—and over there just about as far as from 
here to the end of the barn there’s a clump of lilac 
bushes and below that is the rose garden—and I— 
darling I— 

Julie. Who is Darling I? 

Babe. Qh, he’s our nearest neighbor—Isaac 
Darling— 

Julie. Oh, I don’t care about Darling Isaac— 
Tell Julie about the rose garden. 

Babe. It’s very beautiful garden—we have all 
kinds of roses—all kinds except French roses— 
Oh, I wish we had a French Rose in our home. 


0 


ro6 BUDDIES 

Julie. Is no way to get French Rose there? 

Babe. I haven’t thought of any way yet. 

Julie, Oh, the lilac bushes and the rose garden 
—I wonder if I ever see this lovely, lovely Alle¬ 
ghany ? 

Babe. Oh — I wish you could. (He fumbles 
with the chair.) There’s an awfully nice chair on 
the porch. 

Julie. It is a big chair? 

Babe. Yes. 

Julie. Big enough for two — 

Babe. Yes. 

Julie. Two could sit in it and watch the sun 
set anld see the little clouds floating home to bed 
in the afterglow, and maybe hold hands— (Bus.) 
with just one little whispered, “Darling I-” 

Babe. Oh, the Darlings live on the eastern side 
—er—er—there’s nothing between our porch and 
the sunset. 

Julie. Nothing at all? 

Babe. Nothing at all. 

Julie. Nobody is at home? 

Babe. Nobody home. 

Julie. ( Changing the subject.) You are see 
Sonny and Miss Brookline—you think they are 
sit together in the moonlight? What you think he 
say to her? Tell Julie. 

Babe. Oh, I guess he’s saying, Louise, as soon 
as we get home we’ll be married and live in Brook¬ 
lyn—that’s the kind of chap he is—he’d go to hell 
for a woman—oh—excuse me— 

Julie. Is all right — no harm is mentioned— I am 
very fond of man who will go to hell for a woman 
—is nice idea—You are take this package, please. 
(Hands package to Babe.) 

Babe. Oh, thank you. 

Julie. But you open it. 



BUDDIES 


107 


Babe. (Opens package) Oh, slippers! Aren’t 
they? They’re—they’re—pretty—sort of crystal 
color—I like that color—are they—are they yours ? 

Julie. Oui! I have them for birthday present 
— I have never worn them yet—I wish first to show 
them to you. (Swings her foot quietly to attract 
his attention thereto.) I am-hope you like them 
very much. 

Babe. Yes, I do— (Notices her foot.) You are 
wearing—those—those— 

Julie. Sabots! 

Babe. Sabots—yes! I should think you’d rather 
take off those sabots and put on the crystal slip¬ 
pers? 

Julie. Oh, Bebe—Bebe! At last you are the 
Prince Charming. 

Babe. Gee. What a fool I’ve been. (Embraces 
and kisses her.) 

(Enter Sonny and Louise from right.) 

Sonny. Oh! He’s found his tree. (Babe and 
Julie rise and go to centre.) 

(Quarters is heard in the distance.) 

(The other Boys enter quietly in back.) 

(WARN) 

Julie. Oh, it is alright. I know what it is— 
you want me to go to the train with Miss Brook¬ 
line. You see M’sieu Bebe—you see his smile, like 
angel face—what you think he is say to me—he is 
say ‘‘take off the sabots and put on the crystal slip¬ 
pers”—and I have give him no help at all in the 
matter, have I, Bebe? 

Babe. No. I thought it all out myself. 


io8 


BUDDIES 


Louise. Congratulations, Babe. (They shake 
hands.) 

(READY TAPS) 

Julie. Congratulations, for you too, Sonlny. 
(They shake hands across Louise and Babe.) Oh, 
look it is a wedding—I wonder who is going for be 
married. 

(Enter Biff from back, followed by other Boys.) 

Biff. Excuse me, ladies. It’s time my boys 
were going to bed. 

Sonny. (To LouiseJ I'm sorry, dear—it’s 
time to go. 

Julie. (As the Boys are about to prepare to 
turn in) I must go too—What is happen this day 
make Julie’s heart happy like she never expect to 
be and some day she go to live in beautiful Alle¬ 
ghany—and there, M’sieu Babe is to help me make 
up the rest of the fairy story where it says—“and 
they! lived happy ever afterwards”— (Babe and 
Julie embrace, all the others turn their backs, and 
look away.) Come, Miss Brookline! (She places 

her arm around Louise and takes her to the door 
at left.) Au revoir, mes enfants. 

(Julie and Louise exit at l. As general good¬ 
byes are said.) 

- (TAPS) 

(Taps is heard close by. Biff turns out the 
lamps and the stage becomes dark, lighted only by 
the rays of the moon which shines through the 
door and window left. The Boys get ready for the 
night's rest in silence. They start to imdress. Biff 
is sitting on the bench at l. He starts to remove 


BUDDIES 


109 


his puttees. Others do the same. Babe and Sonny 
are sitting over on the steps at the right conversing 
in lozv tones with an occasional low laugh from 
Babe. ) 

(Presently Taps is heard again in the distance 
as the curtain slowly drops.) 


END OF THE PLAY 





























































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Daddy Long-Legs 

A charming: comedy in 4 acts, by Jean Webster. 6 males, 
7 females, and 6 orphans, but by easy doubling: of some char¬ 
acters, may be played by 4 males, 4 females and 3 orphans* 
The orphans appear only in the first act and may be played 
by small girls. 4 easy interiors. Costumes modern. Plays 2V£s 
hours. 

The New York Times wrote the following:: 

“If you will take your pencil and write down, one below 
the other, the words delightful, charming, sweet, beautiful and 
entertaining, and then draw a line and add them up, the answer 
will be ‘Daddy Long-Legs’. To that result you might even add 
brilliant, pathetic and humorous, but the answer even then 
would be just what it was before—the play which Miss Jean 
Webster has made from her book, ‘Daddy Long-Legs’. To at¬ 
tempt to describe the simplicity and beauty of ‘Daddy Long¬ 
ings’ would be like attempting to describe the first breath of 
Spring after an exceedingly tiresome and hard Winter.” 

Enjoyed a two-years* run in New York and was then toured 
for over three years. Royalty, $25.00. Price, 75' cents. 


To the Ladies 

A hilarious comedy in 3 acts, by George S. Kaufman and. 
Marc Connelly. 11 males, 3 females. 3 interiors. Costumes, 
modern. Plays 2Vz hours. 

The anthors of “Dulcy” have divulged a secret known to 
even r woman—and to some men, though the men don’t admit it. 

The central figures are young Leonard Beebe and his wife 
Elsie, a little girl from Mobile. Leonard is the average young 
American clerk, the kind who read all the “Success” stories in 
the magazines and believe them. Elsie has determined to make 
him something more. She has her hands full—even has to 
make an after dinner speech for him—but she does it and the 
play shows how. 

Helen Hayes played Elsie and Otto Kruger impersonated 
Leonard in New York, where It ran a whole season. Here’s a 
clean and wholesome play, deliciously funny and altogether a 
diverting evening’s entertainment. Royalty, $25.00* Price, 75 
cents. 

Three Live Ghosts 

Comedy m 3 acts by Frederick Isham and Max Marcin. 6 
males, 4 females (2 policemen). 1 interior throughout. Cos¬ 
tumes, modern. Plays 2% hours. 

“Three Live Ghosts” is brim full of fun and humor and is 
sure to keep audiences in gales of laughter. The New York 
critics described it as the most ingenious and amusing comedy 
of the season, genuinely funny. It played a full season in’ 
New York, then toured the big cities. A lively' comedy of merit. 
Royalty, $25.00. Price, 75 cents. 


SAMUEL FRENCH, 25 West 45th Street, New York City 
New and Explicit Descriptive Catalogue Mailed 
Free on Request 




FRENCH’S 

Standard Library Edition 

Includes Plays by 

Clyde Fitch 
William Gillette 
Augustus Thomas 
George Broadhurst 
Edward E. Kidder 
Percy Mac Kaye 
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle 
Louis N. Parker 
R. C. Carton 
Alfred Sutro 
Richard Harding Davis 
Sir Arthur W. Pinero 
Anthony Hope 
Oscar Wilde 
H addon Chambers 
Jerome K. Jerome 
Cosmo Gordon Lennox 
H. V. Esmond 
Mark Swan 
Grace L. Fumiss 
Marguerite Merrington 
Hermann Sudermann 
Rida Johnson Young 
Arthur Law 
Rachel Crothers 
Martha Morton 
H. A, Du Souchet 
W. W. Jacobs 
Madeleine Lucette Ryley 

French’s International Copyrighted Edition con¬ 
tains plays, comedies and farces of international 
reputation; also recent professional successes by 
famous American and English Authors. 

Send a four-cent stamp for our new catalogue 
describing thousands of plays. 

SAMUEL FRENCH 

Oldest Play Publisher in the World 
28-30 West 38th Street, NEW YORK CITY 


Booth Tarkington 
J. Hartley Manners 
James Forbes 
James Montgomery 
Wm. C. de Mille 
Roi Cooper Megrue 
Edward E. Rose 
Israel Zangwill 
Henry Bernstein 
Harold Brighouse 
Channing Pollock 
Harry Durant 
Winchell Smith 
Margaret Mayo 
Edward Peple 
A. E. W. Mason 
Charles Klein 
Henry Arthur Joaea 
A. E. Thomas 
Fred, Ballard 
Cyril Harcourt 
Carlisle Moore 
Ernest Denny 
Laurence llousman 
Harry James Smith 
Edgar Selwyn 
Augustin McHugh 
Robert Housum 
Charles Kenyon 
C. M. S. McLellan 











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